DMMHHM 


THE  LIBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL IFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


STRONG  DRINK; 


TUE 


CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 


By  T.  S.  AUTHTJR 


Author  qf  "Three  Ycari  in  a  Han-Trap,"    "  fringer,"   "Woman  to  the  Sacw," 
-Coil  Adrift,"  etc.,  etc. 


HUBBARD  BROTHERS, 

PHILADELPHIA,  CISCIHHATI,  CHICAGO  AHD  SPRIJIOFIELD,  MASS. 

N.  D.  TllOMl'dON  A  CO.,  ST.  Louis,  Mo.:  A.  L.  BANCROFT  &  CO., 

SAH  FBAHCIBCO,  CAL. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1877,  by 

HUBBARD  BROS., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


t.  STASLEV  HAUT,  Klcutrutvpcr  and  I'riutcr,  38  Hudson  Street,  Phila. 


PAKT  I. 


WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  TO  BE  SAVED 


FKOM     I  UK 


DEMON  OF  DRINK? 


1691480 


PUBLISHERS7  PREFACE. 


I  N  tho  FIRST  PART  of  this  important  work  we  have  one  of 
1  those  intensely  wrought  temperance  stories  for  which  the 
author  is  so  distinguished.  In  the  conception  and  execution  of 
ory,  he  has  taken  higher  ground  than  usual,  and  lifted 
the  subject  of  temperance  into  the  region  of  spiritual  laws  and 
forces.  Rarely  has  the  insidious  growth  and  overmastering 
jM>wi-r  of  appetite,  or  the  desperate  and  prolonged  struggle  of 
an  enslaved  man  for  freedom,  been  more  powerfully  exhibited 
than  in  the  hero  of  this  story — a  man  of  education,  social 
Mumlin;:,  high  honor  and  the  tendcrcst  home  affections.  We 
follow  him  in  his  downward  course,  step  by  step,  with  an  al- 
most breathless  interest  and  suspense — glad  and  hopeful  for 
every  new  effort  that  he  makes  to  overcome  his  pitiless  enemy, 
and  disappointed  and  sorrowful  at  each  successive  failure — 
until  manhood  is  eclipsed,  love  extinguished  and  honor  a  thing 
of  the  past ;  and  we  turn  away  from  him  at  the  prison  door, 
our  hope  as  dead  as  his  own.  But  the  man  is  not  lost.  No; 
il  (  ).M:  who  can  save  to  the  uttermost  all  who  come  unto 
Him.  And  by  Him  this  man  is  saved,  and  made  a  power  for 
good  in  the  salvation  of  many  who  had  once  been  in  the  same 
1'rarful  bondage  from  which,  in  the  name  and  by  the  power  of 
("••I.  he  had  been  able  to  get  free.  Can  anyone  who  reads 
what  lirfell  tins  man  in  the  cell  where  society  had  shut  him 
away  as  a  foul  and  guilty  thing,  carinir  little  whether  he  liv«-.l 
or  died,  do  so  with  dry  eyes?  We  think  not.  It  is  something 
to  stir  the  heart  profoundly.  In  this  story,  the  author  deals  not 
alone  with  the  curse  of  strong  drink,  but  with  the  means  of 
cure,  and  .-lu..ws  thai  even  with  the  lowest  and  the  vilest,  reform 
is 


yi  PREFACE. 

But  it  is  in  the  SECOND  PART  that  he  addresses  himself  to 
the  more  serious  purpose  of  his  work.  It  is  because  the  ma- 
jority of  the  people  are  ignorant  of  the  specific  action  of  alco- 
hol on  the  nerves,  membranes,  blood-vessels  and  vital  organs, 
that  so  many  indulge  in  its  use.  Under  this  head  he  gives  the 
latest  and  most  carefully-conducted  experiments  of  physiolo- 
gists and  scientists,  from  which  it  has  been  clearly  demonstrated 
that  alcohol  invariably  acts  as  a  poison  when  taken  into  the 
body,  and  that  its  habitual  use  always  lays  the  foundation  for 
disease,  often  of  a  fatal  character.  This  chapter  is  a  most  im- 
portant one,  and  should  be  read  by  every  young  man,  and  by 
every  moderate  drinker  in  the  land.  Its  well- authenticated 
statement  cannot  fail  to  arrest  the  reader's  attention,  and  deeply 
impress  him  with  the  dangers  that  always  attend  the  use  of 
alcoholic  drinks.  It  is  also  shown  how  mental  failure  always 
keeps  pace  with  the  physical  deteriorations  which  attend  the 
regular  drinking  of  alcoholic  beverages ;  that  no  man  can  do 
his  best,  mentally  or  physically,  while  under  their  influence, 
and  that  their  continued  use  steadily  lessens  the  intellectual 
vigor  and  blunts  the  moral  faculties. 

In  treating  of  the  means  of  reformation  and  cure,  the  author 
shows  what  has  been  done  and  is  now  doing  in  Inebriate  Asy- 
lums and  Reformatory  Homes ;  and  also  through  what  is  known 
as  Gospel  Temperance.  Work — giving,  in  this  connection,  a  brief 
history  of  the  "Woman's  Crusade,  of  The  "Woman's  National 
Christian  Temperance  Union,  and  the  establishment  of  Reform 
Clubs,  Temperance  Coffee-Houses  and  Friendly  Inns. 

The  concluding  chapters  on  the  failure  and  disgrace  of 
license,  and  the  salutory  effects  of  Prohibition,  should  be  care- 
fully studied.  In  the  exceedingly  interesting  and  important 
letter  addressed  to  the  author  by  Hon.  Ncal  Dow,  the  reader 
will  find  a  complete  history  of  the  "Maine  Law,"  and  the 
results  which  have  followed  its  enactment.  Its  testimony  to 
the  value  of  Prohibition  is  conclusive  and  incontrovertable. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HE  came  in  so  noiselessly  that  I  heard  neither 
the  o}>ening  nor  shutting  of  the  door,  tmd 
only  became  aware  of  his  presence  when  I  felt  his 
hand  on  my  shoulder. 

Shall  I  ever  forget  the  face  into  which  I  looked? 
A  face  so  marred  since  I  had  seen  it  last;  so  pale, 
so  exhausted,  so  helpless  and  despairing,  that  I  was 
not  only  shocked  by  the  sight  but  filled  with  inex- 
pressible pain.  The  hand  which  he  had  laid  upon 
me  was  trembling  violently. 

"  Why  Granger ! "  I  exclaimed,  as  I  started  to  my 

"What  does  this  mean?" 

I  saw  the  muscles  of  his  face  quiver  and  spasms 
run  about  his  lips,  as  he  made  an  effort,  to  reply. 
"  It  < -an't  be  possible  that  you — " 
I  held  back,  from  an   instinct  of  delicacy,  the 
words  that  \\viv  coming  to  my  lips. 

"Have  fallen  so  low?"  he  said,  in  a  husky, 
shaking  voice,  finishing  the  sentence  which  I  had 
incomplete.  Then,  with  a  steadier  utterance: 
"I'm  it  is  all  too  sadly  true,  Mr.  Lyon.  The  devil 
of  drink  has  seized  me,  and  I  cannot  get  free  from 
the  grip  of  his  terrible  hand  !" 

11 


12  STRONG  DRINK; 

"Don't  say  that,  my  friend.  You  must  resist  tliis 
devil  and,  like  all  other  devils,  when  met  by  resist- 
ance, he  will  flee  from  you." 

A  short,  bitter  laugh,  and  then:  "He  isn't  one  of 
that  kind." 

But,  surely,  Granger,  you  will  not  give  up  your 
manhood  to  the  vice  of  an  appetite?" 

"  Vice !  That's  a  little,  easy  sort  of  a  word,  and 
doesn't  seem  to  mean  much,  does  it?" 

He  was  sitting,  now,  and  I  standing  just  in  front 
of  the  chair  he  had  taken.  As  I  looked  at  him 
steadily,  I  saw  more  distinctly  than  at  first  the  rav- 
ages which  intemperance  had  made  upon  his  finely- 
cut,  and  once  handsome  features.  I  had  not  met 
him  before  for  many  months. 

"To  the  demands  of  an  appetite?  Let  me  make 
the  proposition  stronger,"  said  I. 

"Vice,  demand,  curse;  anything  you  choose.  It's 
all  the  same." 

"But  the  will-power  is  above  them  all — can  break 
the  bonds  of  appetite,  and  let  the  man  go  free." 

I  saw  a  change  begin  passing  over  his  face. 

"  Free !  What  would  I  not  give  to  be  free ! " 

"Resolve,  and  it  is  done!  In  a  man's  will  lies 
his  strength.  Neither  Heaven  nor  hell  can  move 
him  if  he  will  not.  Set  your  will  against  this  appe- 
tite, and  will  shall  be  master." 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  gathering  wonder  in  his 
eyes,  as  though  a  new  thought  were  dawning  upon 
his  mind.  His  mouth  became  a  little  firmer;  and 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  13 

he  raised  his  almost  crouching  form  to  an  erecter 
attitude. 

"If  he  will  not— will  not." 

"Just  so,  my  friend.  If  he  Trill  not,  all  hell  can- 
not move  him.  Self-mastery !  Every  man  has  this 
power.  I  have  it;  you  have  it.  It  is  the  common 
inlu'ritunce  of  all  men." 

"  An  inheritance  sold,  alas !  too  often  for  a  mess 
of  pottage,"  Granger  answered,  bitterly.  "And 
when  once  sold,  has  it  not  gone  hopelessly  out  of 
our  possession  ?" 

"  No.  Freedom  to  will  is  a  birthright  which  no 
man  living  can  wholly  alienate.  He  may  at  any 
time  re-assert  his  right  of  inheritance.  You  can  do 
it  now — can  set  your  heel  on  this  serpent  of  appetite, 
and  crush  it  beneath  your  tread.  Be  a  man,  Gran- 
ger !  Let  the  higher  things  that  are  in  you  hold  the 
lower  things  in  subjection.  Let  reason  and  judg- 
ment rule  the  appetites  and  passions,  as  a  master 
rules  his  servants.  This  is  the  common  order  of 
life,  (}<)d  lias  given  us  reason  as  a  ruler;  and  "we 
must  see  that  no  usurper  gain  a  foothold  in  our 
kingdom." 

As  I  spoke  I  saw  the  signs  of  strength  and  confi- 
dence nnning  into  Granger's  eyes. 

"  It  is  because  you  have  let  the  sensual  betray  and 
dethrone  the  rational  that  you  are  in  so  sad  a  plight 
to-day.  Will  lias  gone  over  to  the  wrong  side." 

"  It  shall  come  to  the  right  side  again,  Mr.  Lyon ! " 
IT-  WMQG  lia  1  a  clear  ring.  "I  see  just  how  it  is. 


14  STEONG  DRINK; 

"Will  went  over  to  appetite  instead  of  standing  firm 
by  the  side  of  reason." 

"Yes;  you  state  the  case  exactly  as  it  stands,"  I 
said.  "It  was  an  "abuse  of  freedom,  so  to  speak. 
You  were  not  compelled  to  drink :  for  appetite  has 
no  power  above  solicitation.  It  cannot  move  your 
hand,  nor  place  a  glass  to  your  lips.  Only  the  will 
has  power  over  the  actions,  and  so  nothing  can  be 
done  without  consent  of  the  will." 

"I  see !  I  see !"  More  light  and  strength  coming 
into  his  face.  "  It  all  lies  with  myself." 

"  All,"  I  answered.  "  There  is  no  help  for  you 
outside  of  your  own  will.  You  stand  self-centered, 
or  equipoised,  with  freedom  to  act  in  the  direction 
of  any  force  that  draws  you,  be  it  good  or  evil." 

"  Thank  you  for  all  this.  I  see  wherein  my  peril 
lies,  and  also  the  line  of  a  new  defence.  I  will  con- 
trol this  dreadful  appetite !  I  will  be  a  man." 

"  But,  remember,"  I  said,  "  that  eternal  vigilance 
is  the  price  of  safety.  Appetite  is  subtle,  as  well  as 
strong.  It  is  an  enemy  that  never  really  sleeps." 

"  I  know,  I  know !  But  is  not  safety  worth  eter- 
nal vigilance  ?" 

There  was  in  his  countenance  the  glow  of  a  rising 
confidence. 

"  Ah,  my  friend,"  he  added,  as  he  took  my  hand 
and  held  it  tightly,  "what  would  I  not  do  or  suffer 
to  be  free  from  this  awful  slavery ;  from  this  bond- 
age to  death  and  hell  I" 

"  And  the  way  is  so  plain  and  so  easy,"  said  I, 


THE  CL'IISE  AXD  THE  CURE.  15 

-with  all  the  encouragement  I  was  able  to  throw  into 
inv  voice.  "Just  to  will  to  be  free;  and  then  to 
stand  up  as  a  man.  To  say  to  appetite,  '  So  far  and 
no  farthrr!'" 

"  It  was  my  good  angel  who  led  ma  here,  and  who 
put  these  hopeful  words  into  your  mouth,  my  dear 
old  friend!"  He  spoke  with  much  feeling.  "I 
haven't  been  home  since  yesterday.  I  was  hi  no 
condition  to  meet  my  family  last  night ;  and  am  in 
little  better  condition  this  morning.  You  see,  I've 
not  lost  all  shame  and  all  consideration." 

"  You  will  go  home  now  ?" 

"Yes." 

I  saw  a  shadow  drifting  over  his  face. 

"  Where  are  you  living  ?" 

"  Away  up  town ;  but  not  as  we  used  to  live." 

"Shall  I  go  with  you?" 

He  did  not  reply  at  once ;  but  the  shadows  were 
deeper  on  his  face. 

"  If  you  will."  There  was  a  returning  depression 
in  his  voice;  and  I  saw  that,  his  nerves,  which  had 
grown  steady  under  the  pressure  of  new  thoughts 
and  purposes,  were  giving  way  again.  He  drew  a 
hand  across  his  forehead.  It  was  trembling. 

"  You  remember  Helen?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  yes.     How  is  she?" 

There  was  something  like  a  gasp,  or  quick  catch- 
of  The  breath.  Then,  with  an  dl'ort  to  control 
flings:  "Not  as  when  you  saw  her  la.-t.  Ah! 
sir,  what  a  cruel  devil  this  drink  is  I" 


1  (5  STEONO  DRINK; 

"  Cruel  as  death,"  I  responded,  falling  in  with  his 
thoughts. 

"As  death?  Oh,  no!  Death  is  an  angel  of 
mercy ;  but  drink  is  a  devil  i  My  poor  Helen !" 

What  grief  and  tenderness  were  in  his  voice  as  he 
uttered  the  name  of  his  wife. 

"For  her  sake,  Granger." 

"  For  her  sake !"  He  spoke  with  a  sudden  intense 
earnestness,  while  a  strong  light  flashed  into  his 
eyes.  "If  I  were  to  see  a  wild  beast  rushing  down 
upon  her,  do  you  think  I  would  pause  to  question 
about  consequences  to  myself?  Not  for  a  single 
instant !  What  would  I  not  do,  and  bear,  and  suffer 
for  her  sake !  Ah !  sir,  she  has  been  a  good  wife  to 
me.  So  patient,  so  true,  so  tender  always.  And  I 
have  tried  so  hard,  and  fought  so  hard,  for  her 
sake." 

"And  now  let  the  new  life  you  are  going  to  lead 
find  its  highest  strength  in  these  three  words — For 
her  sake.  Let  the  steady  will  and  the  better  man- 
hood be  for  her  sake.  Hold  the  brief  sentence  ever 
against  your  heart;  set  it  ever  before  your  eyes.  For 
her  sake,  my  friend  1" 

"Yes,  for  her  sake,  God  bless  her!"  His  voice 
shook,  and  I  saw  tears  coming  into  his  eyes. 

"What  higher  strength  than  this.  Surely  you 
will  stand  as  a  rock  against  which  the  maddest  bil- 
lows of  temptation  must  break  and  dissolve  into 
foam  and  spray." 

"For  her  sake  I  will  stand !     For  her  sake,  and 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'i:K.  17 

f  >r  the  sake  of  my  wronged  and  humiliated  children. 
A VI uit  a  wretch  I  have  been !  To  fill  the  lives  of 
those  I  love  with  shame  and  sorrow ;  and  for  what  ? 
Just  to  gratify  an  appetite !" 

"Which,  if  you  will  to  deny,  must  always  stand 

d.     Keep  ever  in  your  thought  the  true  order 

of  life,  which  is  the  subjection  of  the  sensual  to  the 

rational.     If  the  sensual  is  suffered  to  rule,  then  will 

anarchy  and  violence  reign  in  the  kingdom ;  but  if 

n  keeps  her  seat  of  power,  order,  and  peace, 

and  happiness  will  prevail ;  and  the  sensual  will  be 

as  a  staff  in  the  hand  of  Aaron,  and  not  as  a  biting 

serpent  on  the  ground." 

"Ah !  yes,  it  is  growing  clearer  and  clearer.  All 
d.uiiror  lies  in  this  infirmity  of  the  will,  in  this  heark- 
ening to  the  lying  voice  of  a  serpent,  instead  of  to 
our  God-given  reason." 

Granger  was  lifting  himself  with  a  more  as- 
sured air,  and  there  was  a  growing  strength  in  his 
face. 

"  I  must  go  home  now,"  he  said,  rising. 

"  And  I  am  to  go  with  you  ?" 

Did  I  betray  a  doubt  in  my  voice  ?  Perhaps ;  for 
away  back  and  almost  out  of  sight  in  my  mind  lay 
a  doubt  of  the  new-born  strength  of  this  man's  will. 
It  might  endure  until  he  reached  his  home,  or  it 
miijit  yield  to  enticement  by  the  way.  lie  had  not 
yet  r  1  his  manhood.  Was  still  weak,  and 

must  walk  for  a  time  witli  unsteady  steps.  All  this 

I  felt  rather  than  thought. 
o 


13  STRONG  DRINK; 

He  set  Ills  eyes  on  me  with  a  keen  look  just  for 
an  instant  before  replying. 

"  If  you  care  to  see  what  a  poor  and  wretched 
home  it  is." 

"  I  care  to  give  you  what  help  and  strength  lies 
in  my  power."  I  took  my  hat  as  I  spoke,  and  we 
went  out  together. 

I  had  not  seen  Alexander  Granger  before  for 
nearly  a  year.  He  was  a  lawyer  of  fine  abilities,  and 
in  the  first  ten  years  of  his  practice  at  the  bar  had 
risen  steadily  into  notice,  and  been  connected,  as 
counsel,  with  many  important  cases.  But,  unhappily, 
his  social  nature  led  him  too  often  out  of  the  ways 
of  safety.  It  was  the  old,  sad  story  which  has  been 
told  so  many  and  so  many  times.  Just  in  the  very 
prime  of  his  life,  the*  subtle  power  of  drink  began 
to  bear  him  down.  If  he  had  taken  alarm  at  the 
first  warning  he  received  of  the  establishment  and 
growth  of  this  power,  and  broken  free  from  it  in  a 
single  resolute  effort,  all  would  have  been  well. 
But  here  again  it  was  the  old  story  repeated.  He 
had  faith  in  his  own  manhood ;  in  his  ability  to  go 
just  so  far  and  no  farther ;  to  keep  on  the  edge  of 
danger  and  never  step  across.  And  he  held  to  this, 
even  in  the  face  of  one  lapse  after  another,  until  he 
became  the  slave  of  appetite. 

It  took  years  for  all  this ;  for  he  had  a  strong, 
tough  brain,  and  great  physical  energy ;  and  his 
steadily  increasing  practice  at  the  bar  held  him  in 
earnest  work,  and  for  a  long  time  out  of  the  sphere 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  19 

of  apparent  danger.  But  no  brain  can  do  its  best 
under  the  stimulant  of  alcohol.  There  must  always 
a  loss  of  clearness.  There  may  be  an  increased 
activity,  but  this  very  activity,  where  the  reason  is 
obscured  and  interests  at  the  same  time  imperilled, 
leads  too  often  to  disaster.  It  happened  so  to  Gran- 
ger. In  the  very  height  of  his  popularity  he  lost  a 
case  of  great  importance.  His  client  did  not  know 
that  on  the  previous  night  he  had  been  over-free  with 
wine  at  a  supper  from  which  he  did  not  get  home 
until  after  the  small  hours  began  ;  and  that  before 
coming  into  court  to  make  his  final  argument,  he 
had  been  compelled  to  steady  his  nerves  with  a 
glass  of  brandy.  No,  they  did  not  know  this ;  but 
what  they  did  know  was,  that  he  failed  to  bring 
out  with  logical  clearness  the  strong  point  in  their 
case,  and  the  one  on  which  they  chiefly  relied. 
Considered  as  a  mere  forensic  display,  it  was  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  ever  heard  in  the  court-room, 
and  men  listened  to  it  breathlessly,  admiring  its 
fine  periods,  its  exhibition  of  learning,  and  its 
wealth  of  imagery  and  illustration ;  but,  while  it 
extorted  admiration,  it  failed  in  the  chief  essential 
of  a  legal  argument,  working  no  conviction  on  the 
minds  of  the  twelve  men  with  whom  the  decision  of 
tin-  case  rested. 

It  was  Granger's  first  great  failure.  Did  no 
MMpicion  of  the  real  cause  intrude  itself  upon  his 
thoughts?  Yes  ;  but  it  was  thrust  out  as  false  and 
unworthy.  His  head  was  never  cl<-aivr,  nor  his 


20  STRONG  DRINK; 

mind  more  active.  So  he  declared  to  himself  in 
his  quick  rejection  of  the  very  truth  it  so  much 
concerned  him  to  know.  But  the  incident  troubled 
him;  and  in  the  face  of  his  effort  to  look  away 
from  the  real  cause  of  failure,  and  to  count  it  as 
nothing,  he  made  an  almost  involuntary  resolution 
to  abstain  from  any  free  use  of  stimulants  for  some 
days  before  arguing  another  important  case ;  and 
for  more  than  a  year  he  acted  upon  this  resolution. 

But  his  wine  at  dinner,  his  exchange  of  drinking 
courtesies  with  friends,  and  his  indulgence  at  sup- 
pers and  social  parties,  gradually  depraved  his 
appetite,  and  it  grew  to  be  more  and  more  exacting. 
For  awhile  only  a  single  glass  had  been  taken  with 
his  dinner.  Then  there  was  an  occasional  second 
glass,  and  in  time  two  glasses  became  the  regular 
custom.  A  third  glass  now  and  then  marked  the 
Eteady  growth  of  appetite.  So  it  went  on,  with  a 
slow  but  sure  increase,  until  it  was  no  unusual  thing 
for  Granger  to  drink  half  a  bottle  of  wine  every 
day  with  his  dinner ;  and  to  finish  the  bottle  before 
going  to  bed. 

Fame  and  fortune  were  just  within  his  reach. 
He  was  regarded  as  the  ablest  of  all  the  rising  men 
at  the  bar  of  his  native  city,  and  many  of  the  best 
cases  were  coming  into  his  hands,  when  the  evidences 
of  blight  and  failure  of  power  became  visible.  After 
losing  the  case  to  which  I  have  referred,  he  was  on 
guard  for  a  long  time ;  but  the  steadily  increasing 
use  of  stimulants  wrought  its  natural  result  on  Ins 


TIIK  LTRSE  AXD  THE  Cl'lir.  21 

,  and  liis  second  great  failure  in  court  was  due 
in  all  ]>n»1  lability  as  much  to  a  complete  uK-tinence 
from  drink  as  the  first  was  to  its  use  and  the 
unhealthy  excitement  that  followed. 

This  loss  of  mental  clearness  in  consequence  of  a 
loss  of  the  usual  brain-tonic,  was  a  fact  far  more 
j>:i tent  to  Granger's  mind  than  had  been  the 
•other  fact  of  loss  of  mental  clearness  through  un- 
usual stimulation,  and  he  resolved  not  to  risk 
another  experiment  of  the  kind,  but  rather  to  give 
his  nerves  a  firmer  tone  by  an  exfra  glass  on  the 
eve  of  every  specially  important  effort  hi  court.  It 
is  surprising  how  men  who  are  clear-seeing  as  to 
cause  and  effect  in  almost  everything  else,  can  be  so 
blind  about  the  ultimate  result  of  repeated  and  in- 
creasing stimulation  on  that  wonderful  and  delicate 
organism,  the  brain.  It  shows  how  subtle,  and 
strong,  and  self-deceiving  is  the  sensual  side  of  our 
nature,  if,  instead  of  holding  it  in  strict  subordina- 
tion to  reason  and  the  laws  of  order,  we  give  it  the 
rein,  and  submit  even  partially  to  its  rule. 

After  this  second  important  failure,  and  Granger's 
clear  apprehension  of  the  proximate  cause,  he  did 
not  again  venture  on  complete  abstinence  as  a  safe 
1 'reparation  for  entrance  upon  a  legal  conflict  in 
which  large  interests  hung  on  victory  or  defeat. 
1 5ut,  for  all  this,  he  was  never  able  to  bring  to  his 
cases  the  clear  logic  and  force  of  argument  for 
which  he  had  once  been  distinguished.  He  had,  in 
fact,  reached  his  highest  point  of  success  and  n-pu- 


22  STRONG  DRINK; 

tation ;  and  as  the  causes  which  had  checked  his 
upward  movement  were  still  in  force,  and  his  power 
of  resistance  waning,  it  was  not  long  before  the 
downward  change  became  apparent  to  all. 

And  now,  his  nearest  friends  began  to  warn  and 
to  expostulate.  But  only  after  some  disgraceful  fall 
from  sobriety,  was  heed  taken,  and  efforts  at  reform 
made.  It  was  the  old  story,  as  we  have  said.  Fall- 
ing, falling  slowly.  Then  a  pause  and  a  rallying  of 
strength,  and  an  effort  to  move  upwards  again.  And 
then  a  yielding  to  the  downward  drag.  He  did  not 
at  this  time  show  himself  to  the  world  as  a  common 
drunkard;  and  the  people  who  met  him  on  the 
street,  at  his  office,  or  in  the  court-rooms,  rarely 
saw  him  so  much  under  the  influence  of  liquor  as 
to  betray  the  fact  in  any  marked  way ;  and  yet,  all 
could  see  that  he  was  becoming  the  slave  of  drink, 
and  that  his  utter  ruin  was  only  a  matter  of  time, 
unless  there  should  come  a  total  change  in  his 
habits. 

Down,  down,  the  descent  becoming  more  rapid. 
Sudden  stoppages,  as  one  strong  influence  after 
another  was  brought  to  bear  upon  him ;  solemn 
promises,  and  pledges  of  reform ;  firm  standing  for 
brief  periods ;  and  then,  down,  down  again !  And 
thus  it  went  on  for  years ;  and  there  came  loss  of 
an  honorable  position  at  the  bar ;  loss  of  practice ; 
loss  of  social  status ;  moral  weakness  and  degrada- 
tion ;  poverty  and  wretchedness.  And  still,  there 
were  intermitted  struggles  with  the  enemy,  and 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  23 

efforts  to  rise  into  a  true  manhood.     A  sad,  sad 
>ry,  running  through  years  of  increasing  dis- 
aster, humiliation  and  sorrow,  until  he  had  reached 
the  level  on  which  the  reader  finds  him. 

Yet,  as  has  been  seen,  some  hope  and  strength 
were  yet  remaining ;  some  feeling  of  self-respect, 
and  an  unextinguished  love  for  his  unhappy  wife 
and  wronged  and  suffering  children,  for  whom  he 
would  have  braved  any  physical  peril — even  death 


CHAPTEK  II. 

66  T~  HAVE  taken  a  dozen  pledges,"  said  Granger, 
-L  as  we  passed  into  the  street ;  "  but  they  are  as 
flax  to  fire  when  this  thirst  seizes  upon  me." 

"  Because,"  I  answered,  "  they  are  only  external 
bonds;  and  if  the  inner  force  be  against  them,  they 
will  break  should  the  force  be  stronger  than  the 
bond.  There  is  safety  only  in  the  strength  of  an 
internal  integrity.  The  will  must  be  strong  and 
true.  If,  to  change^the  figure  of  speech,  the  will  be 
set  to  guard  the  door,  no  enemy  can  make  a  breach 
unless  the  will  be  corrupted.  So  long  as  the  will  is 
true,  the  man  is  safe.  No,  no.  Put  no  trust  in 
pledges  nor  promises.  They  are  things  outside  of 
you,  so  to  speak.  Mere  bonds,  weak  or  strong,  as 
the  case  may  be.  You  must  trust  in  yourself — in 
the  strength  of  your  will — in  your  manhood  and 
self-centered  power.  Here  is  your  only  true  abiding. 
The  pledge  may  be  well  enough  as  a  rallying  point 
where  a  first  stand  is  made  against  the  enemy ;  but 
the  man  must  fight  it  out  to  the  bitter  end,  and  that 
in  himself  and  by  himself.  There  is  no  other  hope. 
No  arm  but  his  own  can  save  him." 

We  walked  in  silence  for  almost  the  distance  of 
24 


Till-:  CfliSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  25 

a  block  before  Granger  made  any  reply.     lie  was, 
'.  intly,  pondering  what  I  had  said. 

"  Xo  arm  but  his  own  arm?"  He  stopped,  and 
turning,  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  on  my  face,  with  a 
look  in  them  that  I  scarcely  comprehended. 

"  If  a  man  fight  not  for  himself,  who  shall  fight 
for  him  ?  This  enemy  is  within,  and  the  man  him- 
M -If  must  cast  him  out.  I  cannot  fight  the  battle  for 
you ;  nor  can  any  one  else.  It  is  your  own  strong 
right  arm  that  must  bring  the  victory." 

"  Is  there  no  help  in  God  ?"  There  was  an  eager 
thrill  in  his  voice  as  he  put  the  question. 

"  Of  course,"  I  repliec^  a  little  coldly.  "  But  we 
must  be  careful  not  to  confound  things.  A  false, 
or  irrational  trust,  is  worse  than  no  trust  at  all,  for 
it  will  surely  betray.  God  helps  those  who  help 
themselves ;  who  use  in  right  and  orderly  ways  the 
strength  He  gives  to  every  man.  I  know  of  no 
ini  a iis  by  which  to  get  help  from  God  but  in  the 
right  use  of  the  faculties  with  which  He  has  endow i  <  1 
us.  They  are,  of  course,  God-given,  for  He  is  our 
Maker.  But  He  does  not  live  for  us,  nor  work  for 
us,  nor  fight  for  us.  All  these  we  must  do  for  our- 
selves." 

I  saw  the  light  go  slowly  out  of  his  face  as  he 
dropped  his  eyes  to  the  ground,  and  moved  forward 
a^ain.  Something  like  a  shadow  and  a  chill  came 
upon  my  own  feelings,  and  my  mind  seemed  to  pass 
into  an  obscuring  cloud.  Had  I  spoken  truly  ?  AVas 
tlu-rc  no  other  help  hi  God  but  this  that  I  had  said? 


26  STRONG  DRISK; 

It  was  all  very  clear  to  me  while  I  was  speaking ; 
but,  somehow,  my  strong  assurance  was  all  at  once 
broken,  and  I  felt  as  one  drifting  to  sea.  I  had 
been  laying  out  this  man's  course  for  him,  and  now 
I  was  in  doubt  myself. 

"  You  may  be  right  about  it,  Mr.  Lyon,"  Granger 
said,  after  another  long  silence.  "  But  it  seems  to 
put  God  so  far  away,  To  take  from  Him  all  pity, 
and  tenderness,  and  love.  He  will  help  me  if  I  try 
to  help  myself;  but,  unless  I  do  this,  He  will  not  so 
much  as  reach  out  His  hand,  though  the  billows  be 
,  going  over  me !" 

Even  above  the  noise  of  the  street  I  heard  the 
sigh  that  came  with  the  closing  of  this  last  sentence. 

"Is  not  His  hand  always  reached  out?"  I  an- 
swered ;  "  and  is  it  not  because  we  refuse  to  take 
hold  of  it  that  we  are  not  saved  ?" 

"  I  don't  know."'  He  spoke  in  a  dreary,  depressed 
tone  of  voice.  "  If  one  could  see  the  hand,  and  be 
sure  it  was  God's." 

"  What  is  the  hand  of  God  but  the  power  that  is 
within  us  from  Him  ?  The  power  to  will  and  to  do 
what  is  right ;  to  stand  fast  in  the  front  of  tempta- 
tion ;  to  walk  securely  in  the  strength  He  gives  us  ? 
We  grasp  His  hand  when  we  use  this  power." 

"  Doubtless  it  is  so ;  but  our  poor  eyes  have  be- 
come very  dim-sighted." 

He  was  silent  again,  and  I  began  to  feel  troubled 
about  his  state  of  mind,  lest  a  depressing  sense  of 
weakness  should  destroy  that  confidence  in  his  own 


THE  critSE  AND  THE  CURE.  07 

shvnijth  of  will  with  which  I  was  seeking  to  inspire 
him. 

"  We  may  be  very  sure  of  one  thing,  Mr.  Gran- 
I  said,  repeating  my  former  proposition, 
"  the  true  order  of  life  is  the  government  of  reason. 
This  must  rule  over  all  the  lower  things  of  sense. 
The  appetites  and  passions  must  be  held  in  complete 
subjection.  God  is  with  us,  and  in  us ;  gives  us  of 
His  strength,  and  keeps  us  in  safety,  so  long  as  we 
maintain  this  true  order  of  life.  If  we  will  not 
maintain  it,  He  cannot  do  it  for  us;  and  the  same 
law  must  rule  in  restoration  and  cure  as  in  normal 
order.  We  must  take  the  strength  God  is  always 
giving,  and  use  it  for  ourselves.  "We  would  be  only 
machines  if  He  merely  lived  in  us  as  the  mainspring 
of  all  our  actions." 

"No  help,  no  love;  only  laws  of  order.  "No 
pitying  face,  nor  tender  voice,  nor  bending  form. 
No  quick,  grasping  hand  as  we  send  out  the  de- 
spairing cry,  *  Save,  Lord,  or  we  perish !' ' 

"Don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  this,  Mr. 
Granger,"  said  I.  "It  is  troubling  you  and  con- 
fusing your  mind ;  and  now,  above  all  things,  you 
need  to  be  calm  and  clear-seeing,  for  it  is  clear-see- 
ing that  makes  safe  walking." 

We  were  not  far  from  his  home  now,  and  in  a 

few  minutes  were  at  the  door.     What  a  poor  little 

home  it  was  as  compared  with  that  luxurious  one  in 

which  I  had  many  times  been  a  guest  in  former 

3,     Little  better  than  that  of  an  humble  day- 


28  STRONG  DRINK; 

laborer.  I  felt  a  chill  and  a  heart-ache  as  my  eyes 
looked  upon  it,  and  I  remembered  the  beautiful 
home  in  which  Mrs.  Granger  had  once  presided. 
She  was  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  culture  and 
refinement.  In  stature  below  the  common  height, 
with  regular  though  not  strikingly  handsome  fea- 
tures. Her  eyes  made  the  fine  attraction  of  her 
face;  they  were  large,  and,  in  color,  of  a  dark 
hazel,  with  a  perpetual  changing  of  aspect  and 
a  restlessness  of  movement  that  was  very  peculiar. 
But  you  saw,  in  all  these  changing  hues  and  as- 
pects, that  they  were  true  eyes,  and  beautiful  as 
true. 

Granger  took  a  latch-key  from  his  pocket  as  we 
paused  at  the  door. 

"Shall  I  go  in?"  I  asked.  "It  might  not  be 
pleasant  for  Mrs.  Granger." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  threw  the  door  open,  and 
made  a  motion-  for  me  to  enter.  There  was  a  narrow 
hall,  covered  with  a  worn  and  faded  carpet.  From 
this  we  passed  into  a  small  parlor,  in  which  were  a 
few  articles  of  furniture,  remnants  of  better  days. 
There  were  no  pictures  on  the  walls  beyond  a  few 
photographic  likenesses  and  two  fine  miniatures  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Granger.  Once  they  possessed  many 
rare  paintings.  Plain  Holland  shades  hung  at  the 
windows.  Though  everything  was  in  order,  there 
was  a  certain  chill  and  desolateness  in  the  atmosphere 
of  the  room  that  struck  me  sensibly.  It  might  have 
come  from  the  contrast  I  saw  between  this  and  the 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  OQ 

:ui(l  luxurious  parlor  in  which  I  had  last  met 
this  unhappy  family. 

But  I  had  scarcely  time  to  notice  my  surround- 
.  or  to  question  my  state  of  feeling,  before  quick 
lid  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  in  a  moment  after- 
wards Mrs.  Granger  stood  at  the  parlor  door  with 
wide-open,  eager,  questioning  eyes;  now  fixing  them 
upon  me,  and  now  upon  her  husband. 

".Mr.  Lyon;  you  remember  him." 

I  reached  out  my  hand  as  her  husband  gave  my 
name.  A  faint  tinge  of  color  rose  to  her  pale  face. 
Ah,  how  changed  and  wasted  ! 

She  did  not  repeat  my  name,  and  I  was  not  cer- 
tain that  she  recognized  me.  For  a  moment  only 
did  her  eyes  rest  on  me;  then  they  went  swiftly  to 
her  husband.  I  saw  a  throb  in  her  throat,  and  a 
flush  and  thrill  quickening  on  her  face. 

"There  is  going  to  be  a  new  order  of  life,  Mrs. 
(iran^er,"  said  I,  breaking  the  silence  and  panto- 
iniiw1.  "And  the  old  days  are  coming  back 
again." 

"A  now  life,  Helen !  Yes,  a  new  life,  God  help- 
ing me !  And  the  old  better  days  again." 

'I  saw  the  lips  that  had  been  closely  shut,  fall 
apart,  and  the  large  eyes  grow  larger.  There  was  a 
statue-like  stillness  ;  then  a  faint,  smothered  cry,  and 
a  dropping  down  of  the  quivering  face  Oil  Grai: 

4.  My  eyes  were  dim  with  sudden  tears,  hut  I 
could  seethe  husband's  arms  fold  themselves  clos.  -ly 
ahoiit  tln>  -mall.  li;,rht  form  of  that  true,  patient, 


30  STRONG  DRINK; 

long-suffering  one  in  whose  heart  love  had  never 
failed. 

I  would  have  gone  out  and  left  them  so,  but  that 
might  not  be  well ;  so  I  waited  for  this  first  strong 
tide  of  feeling  to  ebb.  They  were  still  standing — 
Mrs.  Granger's  face  hidden  on  her  husband's  breast, 
and  his  arms  clasping  her  tightly — when  the  sound 
of  other  feet  on  the  stairs  was  heard,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment after  a  beautiful  girl  stood,  with  startled  eyes, 
at  the  door  of  the  little  parlor. 

"Oh,  it's  father !"  she  ejaculated.  Then  on  seeing 
me,  she  shrunk  back  a  step  or  two,  with  a  timid  air, 
the  blood  rising  to  her  temples. 

"Is  anything  the  matter  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  panting 
voice,  as  a  scared  expression  came  into  her  face. 

"Yes,  something  good,"  I  answered,  quickly. 

On  hearing  this,  Granger  withdrew  one  of  his 
arms  from  about  his  wife,  and  holding  it  out  toward 
the  girl,  said :  "  My  daughter  I" 

Gliding  past  me  with  a  rapid  motion,  she  threw 
herself  within  the  extended  arm,  and  mother  and 
child  lay  held  in  a  single  strong  embrace. 

So  I  left  them,  passing  out  with  noiseless  feet. 
For  stranger  eyes  all  this  was  too  sacred ;  and  I  felt 
that  it  was  best  for  them  to  be  alone. 

Next  day  I  called  at  Mr.  Granger's  office,  and 
found  him  at  his  desk,  busy  over  some  law  papers. 
Things  about  him  had  a  look  of  new-made  order,  as 
if  there  had  been  a  recent  general  setting  to  rights ; 
and  something  in  his  personal  appearance  gave  the 


THE  CrnSE  AND  THE  CURE.  31 

same  impression.  There  was  a  bright  flash  in  his 
eyes  as  he  lifted  them  in  recognition,  and  I  saw  a 
marvelous  change  in  his  face;  and,  indeed,  in  his 
whole  aspect. 

"All  right,"  I  said,  cheerily,  as  I  grasped  his  ex- 
tended hand. 

"All  right,  thank  God!" 

"And  right  once  for  all,"  said  I,  in  a  confident 
tone. 

"  Yes ;  once  for  all.  Somehow,"  he  added,  "  I 
feel  stronger  than  I  have  ever  felt  before ;  more  self- 
centered,  and  with  a  firmer  grasp  on  the  rein.  The 
ilu-t  is,  Lyon,  you  gave  me  a  new  thought  yesterday, 
and  I've  been  looking  at  it  and  holding  fast  to  it 
ever  since ;  and  the  more  I  look  at  it,  and  the  longer 
I  keep  hold  of  it,  the  more  assured  do  I  feel.  I  see, 
as  I  never  saw  before,  where  the  danger  lies.  It  is 
tin  weak  will  that  betrays." 

"  Always,"  I  made  answer.  "  If  the  will  be  true 
ami  strong,  the  man  is  safe.  Appetite  can  do  noth- 
ing if  the  will  be  firm  in  denial.  Never  forget  this. 
In  the  hour  of  temptation,  it  is  the  '  I  will,'  or  the 
'  I  will  not,'  that  determines  everything.  There  is 
not  a  devil  in  hell  subtle  enough  to  betray  a  man  it' 
In-  HIM -i  him  with  the  all  powerful  'I  will  not!"1 

"I  believe  you,  my  friend." 

There  was,  I  did  not  fail  to  notice,  more  confi- 
deri'.-e  in  Granger's  words  than  in  his  voice;  and 
tliis  gave  mi;  a  slight  feeling  of  uneasiness. 

"  Hold  on,  as  with  hooks  of  steel,  to  your  faith  in 


32  STRONG  DRINK; 

yourself — in  the  strength  of  your  God-given  man- 
hood. If  the  tempter  comes,  say  '  No !'  as  you  will 
always  be  able  to  say.  It  is  the  weak,  the  doubting, 
the  half-hearted  who  fall." 

As  we  talked,  a  gentleman  named  Stannard  came 
in.  On  seeing  the  change  in  Granger's  appearance, 
he  said :  "  Been  turning  over  another  new  leaf, 
I  see.  Glad  of  it  from  my  heart.  And  now, 
friend  Granger,  what  is  to  be  the  first  writing 
thereon  ?" 

" /  will  not"  was  the  firmly  spoken  answer. 

"  Good  as  far  as  it  goes." 

"  What  more  ?"  asked  Granger. 

"  God  being  my  helper" 

"  Is  not  God's  strength  in  every  true  '  I  will '  or 
'  I  will  not  ?"  said  I,  speaking  before  Granger  had 
time  to  answer,  for  I  was  afraid  of  some  confusion 
being  wrought  in  his  mind. 

"  There  is  no  good  thing  that  does  not  come  from 
God,"  was  the  calmly-spoken  answer.  "  In  Him 
we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being." 

"No  reflecting  man  will  deny  that.  But  the 
grave  and  practical  question  is,  how  does  God  be- 
stow His  good  things  ?  What  are  the  laws  of  order 
by  which  He  acts  with  men  ?" 

"  Love  is  His  great  law,"  said  Mr.  Stannard. 

"We  all  believe  that;  but  love  works  through 
orderly  means.  If  a  man  wilfully  close  his  eyes, 
God  cannot  make  him  see.  If  he  shut  himself  away 
in  a  dungeon,  God  cannot  give  him  light.  If  he 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  33 

'  will  not/  God  cannot  save  him,  though  all  day  He 
stretches  fortli  His  merciful  hand." 

"No  one  will  question  that,  I  presume,"  was  an- 
swered. "But  now  we  have  the  other  proposition 
under  consideration.  It  is  the  'I  will  not'  of  our 
friend  here  as  set  against  temptation.  Now,  under 
what  law  is  he  to  get  God's  help?" 

"  It  will  come  to  him  in  his  effort  to  do  right." 

"'Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  unto  you.  Seek  and 
ye  shall  find.  Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into 
temptation.  Come  unto  me.'  These  are  the  Lord's 
own  words ;  and  do  they  not  mean  that  we  are  to 
do  something  more  than  what  your  answer  indi- 
cates. Will  all  the  help  needed  come  without  the 
asking  ?" 

"A.s  if,"  I  said,  with  a  slight  tremor  of  feeling  in 
my  voice,  "  as  if  God  held  back  for  man's  formal 
asking?  As  if  His  infinite  love  were  not  forever 
yearning  to  save?  and  forever  flowing  with  divine 
strength  into  every  effort  to  fight  against  evil.  It  is 
in  man's  will  where  he  is  truly  potential ;  and  he 
must  set  his  will  against  allurement,  and  stand  in 
the  strength  of  his  true  manhood." 

"  But  suppose  the  will  has  become  so  sickly  and 
i  ved  that  it  cannot  receive  a  just  measure  of  life 
and  strength  from  God?  When  an  organ  in  the 
human  body  is  diseased  it  is  no  longer  able  to  do  its 
proper  work,  though  the  heart  be  perpetually  send- 
ing for  its  use  a  due  portion  of  healthy  blood.  If 
the  wi|J  were  in  order,  we  might  trust  to  the,  will ; 


34  STKONG  DRINK; 

but,  alas!  it  is  not.  It  is  diseased;  and  without 
help  from  the  Great  Physician,  will  fail  in  the  work 
of  its  office.  Nay,  nay,  friend  Granger,  put  no 
faith  in  your  '/  will  not,'  unless  you  write  also  on 
the  leaf  of  the  new  page  you  have  turned,  'God 
being  my  helper.'  If  this  be  not  done  all  your  good 
.purposes  will  avail,  I  fear,  but  little." 

"Anything  to  give  our  friend  strength,"  I  re- 
plied. "  It  will  do  no  harm  for  him  to  write  as  you 
say ;  only  let  him  not  lose  faith  in  himself  because 
of  his  trust  in  God.  It  is  just  here  that  the  danger 
lies.  It  is  the  clear-seeing,  as  I  have  said  to  him, 
that  makes  the  safe-walking.  If  we  do  not  know 
the  way,  we  are  all  the  while  in  danger  of  stum- 
bling." 

"'I  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life/"  said 
Mr.  Stannard.  "  If  we  go  to  Him,  shall  we  be  in 
any  danger  of  losing  our  way  ?  I  think  not." 

As  we  talked,  Granger  looked  first  at  one  of  us 
and  then  at  the  other,  hearkening  carefully  to  what 
we  said,  and  evidently  weighing  the  import  of  our 
words.  That  all  was  not  clear  to  him,  was  evident 
from  his  manner.  I  dropped  the  argument,  in  fear 
that  his  mind  might  get  confused,  and  that,  while  in 
this  unsettled  state>  his  old  enemy  might  rush  in 
upon  him  and  bear  him  down  ere  he  had  time  to 
arrange  his  order  of  defence. 

Mr.  Stannard  had  called  on  a  matter  of  business, 
and  on  becoming  aware  of  this,  I  withdrew  from  the 
office  and  left  liim  alone  with  Granger.  I  carried 


Till-:  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  35 

aw.-iy  with  me  an  uneasy  feeling.  Mr.  Stannard 
was  a  man  for  whom  I  had  great  respect.  He  was 
a  prominent  church  member,  and  active  in  Christian 
work ;  and  so  far  as  my  knowledge  of  him  went,  his 
life  among  men  was  blameless.  But  my  philosophy 
of  religion  differed  in  some  essential  points  from  his. 
We  both  held  to  the  necessity  of  a  pure  life ;  but 
were  not  in  agreement  as  to  the  means  whereby  this 
purity  of  life  was  to  be  attained.  He  held  to  the 
power  of  grace,  through  faith,  as  the  only  means 
whereby  man  could  be  saved — at  least,  so  I  had 
understood  him — I  to  man's  innate  force  of  will, 
into  which  strength  would  flow  from  God  the  in- 
stant his  will  moved  in  a  right  effort.  My  fear  now 
was,  that  Mr.  Stannard  might  undo  the  work  I  had 
attempted,  and  destroy  Granger's  faith  in  himself, 
leaving  him  to  a  blind  confidence  in  some  outside 
help  which  might  never  come.  This  was  the 
ground  of  my  uneasiness. 

I  did  not  see  Granger  again  for  several  days ;  and 
then  our  meeting  was  in  a  public  thoroughfare,  and 
for  a  few  moments  only.     His  face  was  clear  and 
bright,  and  his  air  manly  and  assured. 
Ml  right!"  I  said,  as  I  took  his  hand. 

"All  right,"  he  responded,  giving  me  a  strong 
returning  grip. 

"  Standing  fast  by  '  I  will  not.' " 

"  Standing  fast,"  was  his  answer,  a  slight  change 
in  the  expression  of  his  countenance. 

It  was  on  my  lips  to  say :  "  Don't  forget  that  the 


36 


STRONG  DRINK; 


•will  is  the  man;  and  that  all  hell  cannot  move 
him  if  the  will  stand  fast."  But  I  held  the  sen- 
tence back  from  an  impulse  I  did  not  quite  under- 
stand. So  we  parted,  each  going  his  way. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

.  GRANGER  was  in  church  this  morn- 
ing,"  said  my  wife,  on  coming  home,  a  few 
Sundays  afterward. 

"Ah!     How  did  she  look?" 

"  The  sight  of  her  brought  tears  into  my  eyes. 
How  much  she  has  changed.  And  she  looked  so 
poor  and  humbled." 

"  Was  any  one  with  her  ?" 

I  did  not  put  the  question  that  was  in  my  thought; 
but  the  one  I  asked  would  bring,  I  doubted  not,  the 
answer  I  wished  to  hear. 

"  Yes ;  a  sweet  young  girl — her  oldest  daughter, 
Amy,  I  presume.  The  beautiful  child  has  grown 
almost  to  a  woman  since  I  saw  her  last" 

"  No  one  else  ?" 

"No." 

Though  I  had  not  been  to  church  myself,  and  had 
not  much  faith  in  Sunday  religious  services,  judg- 
ing of  them  by  their  influence  on  a  majority  of  my 
church-going  acquaintances,  I  could  not  help  feeling 
regret  at  the  fact  of  Mr.  Granger's  absence.  Some- 
how, the  impression  took  hold  of  me  that  it  would 
have  been  better  and  safer  for  him  to  have  gone  to 
37 


38  STRONG  DRINK  f 

church ;  and  the  fact  that  he  had  not  accompanied 
his  wife  left  on  my  mind  a  vague  sense  of  uneasi- 
ness. Where  had  he  gone ;  and  what  were  the  in- 
fluences which  had  been  around  him  on  this  day  of 
freedom  from  daily  work  and  the  thought  and  care 
of  business  ? 

"  Mr.  Granger  was  not  there,"  said  I,  wishing  to 
be  altogether  sure  about  the  matter. 

"No."  Then,  after  a  little  silence,  Mrs.  Lyon 
said,  "  I  was  sorry  not  to  have  seen  him  with  his 
wife." 

It  was  on  my  tongue  to  express  the  regret  I  was 
myself  feeling,  but  as  my  wife  and  I  were  not  wholly 
in  agreement  on  the  subject  of  church-going,  I  did 
not  care  to  commit  myself  so  far  as  to  give  an  assent 
to  her  view  of  the  case ;  and  as  I  did  not  respond, 
the  subject  was  dropped. 

After  dinner  I  took  a  walk,  and  as  I  could  not 
get  Granger  out  of  my  mind,  nor  rid  myself  of  a 
certain  feeling  of  responsibility  in  regard  to  him,  I 
concluded  to  extend  my  ramble  as  far  as  the  neigh- 
borhood in  which  he  lived  and  make  him  a  call. 
My  ring  brought  his  wife  to  the  door. 

"  Is  Mr.  Granger  at  home  ?"  I  asked. 

I  saw  a  slight  shade  drop  across  her  face  as  she 
answered :  "  No ;  he  has  gone  to  take  a  walk  in  the 
Park."  Then,  after  a  moment,  "  Won't  you  come 
in,  Mr.  Lyon?" 

I  accepted  the  invitation.  As  I  took  a  seat  in  the 
plain  little  parlor,  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Granger,  I 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  39 

was  painfully  impressed  with  the  changes  a  few 
I  had  wrought  in  her  appearance.  Such  lines 
of  suffering  as  had  been  cut  into  her  brow  and 
around  her  lips!  Such  wasting  and  exhaustion  I 
It  v,-;is  very  sad. 

"I  met  your  husband  a  few  days  ago,"  said  I, 
speaking  at  once,  so  that  there  might  be  no  embar- 
rassing pause,  "  and  was  glad  to  see  him  looking  so 
well." 

She  smiled  faintly ;  but  not  with  the  bright,  al- 
most radiant  smile  I  was  hoping  to  see. 

"  Yes ;  he  is  doing  very  well."  Her  voice  lacked 
heartiness,  I  fancied. 

"  And  is  going  to  stand  this  time,"  said  I,  speak- 
ing confidently. 

"  God  grant  it !"  A  reverent  earnestness  coming 
into  her  manner. 

"  He  has  found  a  new  element  of  strength." 

She  met  my  remark  with  a  look  of  inquiry,  keen 
and  searching. 

"A  true  faith  in  himself — in  his  manhood — in 
the  native  force  of  his  own  strong  will." 

"  There  is  no  sure  help  but  in  God,  Mr.  Lyon." 

I  seem  to  hear  now  her  slow  utterance  of  this 
sentiment,  and  the  strong  emphasis  given  to  the 
words,  "No  sure  help  but  in  God" 

"  <  iod  is  in  every  manly  effort  to  do  right,"  I  an- 
sw.-tvd.  "He  gives  strength  to  the  will  that  sets 
iiisiiiist  evil  enticement.  We  trust  in  Him 
wlu-n  v»v  trust  in  the  power  He  gives  us." 


40  STEONG  DRINK; 

"  What  my  husband  says ;  and  it  may  all  be  so 
in  some  way  that  I  do  not  clearly  understand." 

I  made  an  effort  to  explain  myself  more  clearly ; 
but,  when  I  was  done,  she  answered  with  simple 
earnestness :  "  It  is  better  to  look  to  God  than  to 
ourselves,  Mr.  Lyon.  I  am  sure  of  that.  Every 
hour,  every  moment,  even,  we  need  His  help  and 
care,  for  the  enemies  who  are  against  us  are  very 
malignant,  very  subtle,  and  very  strong.  I  should 
have  a  safer  feeling  about  my  husband  if  he  had  a 
little  less  confidence  in  the  strength  of  his  own  will, 
and  more  in  that  Divine  power  which  I  believe  can 
only  be  had  for  the  asking." 

"  As  if  God  would  stand  away,  coldly  indifferent, 
and  let  a  striving  soul  perish  because  there  was  no 
formal  asking.  Such  a  thought,  in  my  view,  dis- 
honors Him.  Would  a  father  wait  for  his  child  to 
call  for  help  if  he  saw  him  drowning  ?" 

"  No ;  and  I  do  not  think  that  God  ever  holds 
back  from  saving  in  the  sense  you  seem  to  mean, 
Mr.  Lyon.  If  a  father  were  reaching  after  his 
drowning  child,  and  calling  to  him,  '  Give  me  your 
hand,  my  eon !'  and  his  child  were  to  refuse  the  of- 
fered help,  and  trust  to  his  own  strength,  how  could 
the  father  save  him  ?" 

She  waited  for  my  reply,  looking  at  me  steadily. 
"What  answer  could  I  make  ?  The  question  seemed 
to  open  a  window  in  my  soul  and  let  in  beams  of 
light ;  but  they  were  not  yet  strong  enough  to  make 
her  full  meaning  clear. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE         41 

"  Well,  what  more?"  I  queried. 

"Our  Heavenly  Father  is  all  the  while  reaching 

out  to  save  His  perishing  children,  and  His  voice, 

tender  with  compassion,  and  earnest  with  love,  is 

.  •  T  crying,  'Son,  give  me  thy  heart  I'     And  if 

the  heart  be  not  given,  how  can  the  soul  be  saved  ?" 

Mrs.  Granger's  further  question  almost  startled 
me.  It  gave  a  deeper  significance  to  "  being  saved  " 
than  I  had  yet  comprehended. 

She  went  on:  "They  that  dwell  in  God  dwell  in 
safety.  Of  that  we  may  be  sure.  Can  this  be  said, 
confidently,  of  any  others?  Ah!  sir,  where  so 
much  is  at  stake  it  will  not  do  to  risk  anything  in 
doubtful  trusts.  A  man's  will  may  be  very  strong ; 
but  if  the  Spirit  of  God  be  within  him,  he  will  be 
far  stronger — nay,  invincible  in  the  face  of  legions 
of  enemies.  God  is  as  a  walled  city  about  his  peo- 
ple, and  as  a  rock  of  defence.  He  is  a  sure  refuge 
in  the  day  of  trouble." 

Her  face  had  kindled,  and  there  was  something 
in  the  earnestness  of  her  manner,  and  in  the  assured 
tones  with  which  she  spoke,  that  seemed  to  bear  me 
away  and  set  me  adrift.  I  had  nothing  to  say  in 
opposition.  AVhat  could  I  say  ?  There  was  truth 
in  every  word  she  had  uttered ;  and  if  I  had  ques- 
tioned or  cavilled  in  anything,  it  would  only  have 
been  as  to  the  exact  meaning  and  practical  application 
of  the  truths  she  had  spoken.  And  after  all,  might 
she  not  have  a  clearer  insight  than  myself  into  the 
my.-tery  of  God's  ways  with  man? 


42  STRONG  DRINK; 

"You  must  try  to  get  Mr.  Granger  to  go  to 
church  with  you.  It  will  he  hest  for  him,  I  am 
sure,"  said  I,  speaking  with  a  stronger  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  what  J  said  than  I  was  willing  to  admit 
even  to  myself. 

"If  you  would  only  urge  him  to  go,  Mr.  Lyon. 
He  has  great  confidence  in  your  judgment,  and  will 
be  influenced  by  what  you  say.  You  have  helped 
him  greatly  ;  helped  not  only  to  lift  him  to  his  feet 
again,  but  to  set  them  going  in  the  right  way.  Only, 
Mr.  Lyon — and  you  will  excuse  me  for  saying  it— 
you  are  leading  him,  I  greatly  fear,  into  a  state  of 
false  security.  We  may  differ  about  this.  But,  sir, 
the  safest  way  is  the  best  way ;  and  I  am  sure  that 
he  who  goes  to  God  under  a  sense  of  weakness,  and 
prays  for  strength,  will  be  stronger  in  the  hour  of 
temptation,  and  safer  under  the  assaults  of  his 
enemies,  than  he  who  relies  solely  upon  himself." 

"Not  solely  upon  himself,"  I  returned.  "I  did 
not  mean  that  he  should  so  understand  me.  We 
have  no  life  that  is  absolutely  our  own ;  and  no 
strength  that  is  absolutely  our  own;  all  are  from 
God.  Still,  the  life  and  strength  that  God  is  per- 
petually giving  we  must  take  and  use  as  if  it  were 
our  own.  I  meant  no  more  and  no  less.  God  gives 
the  strength  to  fight ;  but  we  must  overcome.  He 
does  not  work  for  us,  nor  fight  for  us,  nor  save  us ; 
for  doing  so  would  be  to  destroy  what  makes  our 
very  life.  We  must  do  all  this  for  ourselves ;  using 
the  power  He  is  forever  giving  to  all  who  will  use  it." 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  43 

"And  especially  to  all  who  call  upon  Him  in 
truth,"  said  Mrs.  Granger.  "  It  may  be  very  clear 
to  you,  sir,"  she  added,  "  how  one  may  stand  fast  in 
the  strength  God  is  always  giving.  But,  if  I  read 
my  Bible  aright  there  is  a  sphere  of  safety  higher 
and  surer  than  this — a  more  absolute  getting,  as  it 
were,  into  the  everlasting  arms ;  and  I  shall  never 
feel  at  ease  in  regard  to  my  husband  until  I  feel 
sure  that  these  everlasting  arms  are  round  about 
him." 

I  left  the  house  more  thoughtful  and  serious  than 
when  I  went  in,  and  took  my  way  to  the  Park, 
hoping  that  I  might  meet  Mr.  Granger ;  for,  some- 
how, his  wife's  sense  of  insecurity  in  regard  to  him 
had  left  a  like  impression  on  my  own  mind.  The 
afternoon  was  clear  and  bright,  and  many  thousands 
of  people  were  in  the  Park,  walking,  driving  and 
recruiting  themselves  in  many  ways ;  some,  I  regret 
to  say,  making  too  free  use  of  the  restaurants  at 
which,  in  defiance  of  Sunday  laws,  but  under  license 
from  the  Park  Commissioners,  some  of  them  churcli- 
going  men,  all  kinds  of  intoxicating  drinks  WITO 
dispensed  to  the  people. 

I  was  sitting  on  the  lawn  near  the  largest  of  these 
restaurants,  from  which  could  be  seen  the  beautiful 
river,  placid  as  a  lake,  and  the  city  with  its  spires 
and  domes  in  the  distance,  when  I  saw  Granger  in 
company  with  two  men,  one  of  whom  I  recognized 
as  a  lawyer  of  some  standing  at  the  bar,  and  the 
other  as  a  respectable  merchant.  They  were  cross- 


44  STRONG  DRINK; 

ing  the  lawn  at  the  distance  of  twenty  or  thirty 
yards  from  where  I  was  sitting,  and  going  in  the 
direction  of  one  of  the  small  refreshment  tables  that 
stood  in  front  of  the  restaurant.  On  reaching  this 
table,  they  all  sat  down  and  one  of  them  beckoned  to 
a  waiter,  who,  on  receiving  his  order,  went  away. 
In  a  little  while  he  returned  with  two  glasses  of 
some  kind  of  mixed  liquor  and  a  bottle  of  soda  wa- 
ter. My  relief  was  great  when  I  saw  this,  for  I 
naturally  inferred  that  the  soda  water  was  for  Gran- 
ger; and  in  this  I  was  right.  When  they  had 
finished  their  glasses,  one  of  them  took  from  his 
pocket  a  segar-case,  and  after  each  had  lighted  a 
segar  and  smoked  for  a  little  while,  they  got  up  and 
went  leisurely  strolling  down  one  of  the  avenues, 
taking  a  homeward  direction. 

Two  or  three  times  I  had  been  on  the  point  of 
joining  them,  but  the  fear  lest  it  should  prove  to 
Granger  an  embarrassing  intrusion,  restrained  me 
from  doing  so.  I  was  troubled  at  the  occurrence. 
This  was  going  into  danger ;  taking  unguarded  rest 
on  the  enemy's  ground;  inviting  temptation.  It 
was  scarcely  possible,  I  saw,  for  Granger  to  sit 
drinking  with  his  friends,  though  he  took  only  soda 
water  himself,  without  the  odor  of  their  glasses  drift- 
ing to  his  nostrils  with  its  enticing  allurement  for 
his  denied  appetite.  Nor  could  he  do  so,  without  a 
mental  contrast  of  their  freedom  with  his  restraint. 
In  any  view  of  the  incident  that  I  could  take,  it 
gave  me  only  regret  and  concern ;  and  I  felt  grieved 


THE  CURSE  ASD  TUB  CURK  45 

almost  to  anger  with  the  two  friends  who,  knowing 
as  they  did  the  man's  weakness,  and  the  great  deep 
out  of  which  he  had  just  struggled,  should  so  set 
temptation  in  his  way  as  to  make  his  fall  again  not 
only  possible,  but  imminent. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

I  DID  not  feel  easy  in  my  mind  until  I  had  called 
at  Granger's  office  on  the  next  day.  I  found 
him  all  right  and  busy  at  work.  His  eyes  bright- 
ened as  he  saw  me,  and  he  said,  with  genuine  heart- 
iness, as  he  grasped  my  hand :  "  I  was  so  sorry  you 
called  yesterday  without  finding  me  at  home.  Helen 
told  me  of  your  visit.  I  had  gone  out  for  a  stroll 
in  the  Park." 

While  I  was  hesitating  whether  or  not  to  say  that 
I  had  seen  him  there,  he  added,  with  a  shade 
of  pride  and  self-confidence  in  his  voice :  "  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  test  the  native  strength  that  lies 
with  every  man,  yesterday,  and  to  prove  the  power 
of  a  resolute  'I  will  not/  ' 

"Ah?  What  were  the  circumstances ?"  I  wished 
to  get  his  own  story,  and  so  gave  no  intimation  of 
what  I  had  seen. 

He  replied:  "I  met  two  friends  while  walking 
near  Belmont,  and  they  invited  me  to  join  them  in 
a  drink.  My  first  thought  was  to  say  No ;  but  not 
wishing  to  be  disagreeable,  I  said,  'All  right/  and 
we  went  over  to  Proskauer's.  I  had  just  a  little 
fight  with  myself  as  we  walked  along ;  but  it  was 
soon  over,  and  will  stood  firmly  on  guard.  '  What 
46 


'Soda-water  for  me."— /"fi^e  A7. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  47 

will  you  take?'  asked  one  of  them,  as  we  sat  down 
in  front  of  the  restaurant.  'Claret  punch/  said  the 
other.  '  And  you  ?'  looking  at  me.  Will  was  all 
right  and  on  guard,  as  I  have  said,  and  '  Soda  water 
for  me/  came  without  a  shade  of  hesitation  in  my 
voice.  I  never  felt  in  greater  freedom  nor  more  at 
ease  and  assured.  Thank  you  from  my  heart,  friend 
Lyon ;  you  have  helped  me  to  get  the  full  mastery 
of  myself." 

"If  a  man  only  will  to  overcome  in  the  day  of 
temptation,  his  victory  is  sure,"  said  I,  with  renewed 
confidence;  for,  was  not  the  proof  of  this  before 
me ?  "I  am  glad  for  your  victory,"  I  continued. 
"  It  not  only  gives  you  increased  assurance  of  safety, 
but  makes  clear  to  your  mind  wherein  this  safety 
lies.  It  is  within  ourselves  that  we  must  look  for 
help  and  strength.  God  is  always  giving  us  the 
power  to  live  right  and  to  dwell  beyond  the  reach  of 
our  enemies ;  but  lie  does  not  use  that  power  for 
us.  This  we  must  do  for  ourselves." 

"All  as  clear  to  me  as  the  sun  at  noonday," 
Granger  replied.  "  And  how  strong  I  fool  in  this 
consciousness  that  If  I  will  not,  all  hell,  as  you  have 
said,  cannot  move  inc.  To  stand  self-con  to  red  is  to 
stand  sure." 

But  for  all  his  confidence  and  my  own,  I  did  not 
fool  that  Granger  was  wholly  safe.  If  there  had 
been  no  such  thing  as  infirmity  of  the  will,  no  sud- 
den assaults  of  the  enemy  in  unguarded  moments, 
no  alluring  enticements  of  the  flesh,  nor  subtle 


48  STROXG  DRINK; 

reasonings  of  the  sensual  principle,  which  is  so 
ready  to  say  when  forbidden  fruit  is  at  the  lip,  "Ye 
shall  not  surely  die,"  I  might  not  have  doubted. 
But  I  could  not  rule  these  considerations  out  of  the 
question.  They  were  ever  existing  sources  of  dan- 
ger and  causes  of  anxiety ;  and  I  knew  but  too  well 
that  the  history  of  moral  defection  was  the  history 
of  their  dominion  over  the  will  of  man. 

"  But,  after  all,"  I  could  not  help  saying,  "  is  it 
not  safest  for  us  to  keep  as  much  as  possible  out  of 
the  way  of  temptation  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  in  a  tone  that  was  almost 
indifferent.  "  Safest,  of  course,  to  be  in  a  sheltered 
embrasure  than  out  on  the  battle-field.  But  the 
skill  to  fight,  and  the  power  to  resist  assault,  cannot 
be  gained  while  one  lies  beyond  the  reach  of  danger. 
We  must  be  brave  and  strong,  and  ever  ready  for 
the  fight ;  not  so  much  seeking  to  avoid  conflict,  as 
to  be  armed  and  ready,  and  quick  to  strike  when 
the  foe  appears.  Does  any  man  know  his  strength 
until  it  is  tried  ?  Is  any  man  really  strong  until  he 
has  met  temptation  and  come  out  victorious  ?" 

There  are  truths  which  become  changed  into  fal- 
lacies because  not  considered  in  relation  to  other 
truths ;  or  because  of  their  too  limited  or  too  general 
application.  In  the  case  of  Granger,  while  I  could 
not  deny  the  abstract  truth  of  what  he  had  been 
saying,  I  felt  that  he  stood  in  great  danger  of  letting 
it  be  to  him  little  more  than  a  betraying  fallacy. 

I  saw  him  frequently  after  this,  and  observed  him 


T1IE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  49 

ly.  How  fast  the  old  strength,  the  old  working 
force  and  the  old  ambition  were  returning.  And 
witli  all,  how  strong  he  seemed  to  be  in  the  new 
power  which  he  had  gained. 

"  My  'will  not'  is  my  sword  and  shield,"  he  said 
to  me,  many  weeks  after  his  new  life  began.  "  If 
my  enemy  assault  me  from  a  distance,  I  catch  his 
arrows  upon  this  shield ;  if  he  fall  upon  me  sud- 
denly, I  defeat  him  with  this  sword." 

Time  passed,  and  still  Granger's  feet  were  stand- 
ing on  solid  ground.  Business  came  flowing  in,  and 
men  who  had  important  cases  were  again  employing 
him  as  counsel.  He  did  not  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
temptation  as  much  as  I  thought  prudent ;  but  his  "  I 
will  not"  held  him  above  the  force  of  all  allurement. 

At  home,  the  new  aspect  of  things  was  like  the 
coming  of  spring  after  a  long  and  desolate  winter. 
The  poor,  little,  ill-attired  house  was  changed  for 
one  larger  and  more  comfortfble,  and  furnished  in 
a  style  more  befitting  the  tastes  and  habits  of  his 
wife  and  children.  Old  social  relations  were  in 
many  cases  restored,  and  Mrs.  Granger  was  seen 
now  and  then  in  public  places  with  her  husband. 
Heart-ache,  deprivation,  toil  and  humiliation  had 
made  sorrowful  changes  in  her  face,  and  shadowed 
her  Iwautiful  eyes ;  but  slowly  the  new  spring-time 
which  opened  upon  her  life  wrought  its  sweet 
changt-s,  until  you  began  to  lose  sight  of  the  winter's 
40S,  and  to  find  in  tlu-ir  >tra<l  the  pleasant  signs 
of  a  fast-coming  and  bountiful  summer. 
4 


50  STRONG  DRINK; 

For  a  whole  year  Granger  held  his  ground,  walk- 
ing safely  amid  temptations  that  assailed  him  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the  left.  His  profession  brought 
him  into  familiar  association  with  men  who  not  only 
used  wine  freely  themselves,  but  made  its  offer  to 
their  friends  a  social  courtesy.  Still,  his  steady 
refusal  to  touch  or  taste  was  maintained.  "  I  will 
not"  continued  to  be  his  tower  of  strength. 

"  I  am  prouder  of  this  self-mastery,"  he  said  to 
me  one  day,  "  than  of  any  achievement  in  my  life. 
In  the  strength  of  this  asserted  manhood,  I  stand  as 
a  rock,  unmoved,  though  the  billows  dash  madly 
against  me." 

"  He  that  ruleth  his  own  spirit  is  better  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city,"  I  replied.  "  The  greatest  of  all 
heroes  is  the  man  who  conquers  himself." 

"Say,  rather,  he  who,  single-handed,  meets  the 
infernal  crew  who  would  drag  him  down  to  death 
and  hell,  and  beats  tl&m  back,"  he  replied. 

There  was  a  proud  flash  in  his  eyes  as  he  lifted 
himself  to  a  statelier  bearing. 

"  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Granger  recently  ?"  asked 
my  wife,  not  many  weeks  afterwards.  It  was  on 
Sunday,  and  we  were  sitting  at  the  dinner-table. 

"No;  why  do  you  ask?"  Something  in  Mrs. 
Lyon's  voice  gave  me  a  feeling  of  uneasiness. 

"  I  saw  Mrs.  Granger  at  church  this  morning, 
and  she  looked  as  if  she  had  just  come  out  of  a  spell 
of  sickness." 

"  Was  she  at  church  last  Sunday?" 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  %\ 

"Y 

"  Did  you  observe  anything  unusual  in  her  ap- 
pearance then  ?" 

-  Xo." 

"  Was  her  daughter  with  her  to-day  ?" 

"  Yes ;  and  she  looked  almost  as  wretched  as  her 
mother.  There's  something  wrong,  I'm  afraid.  Oh, 
if  Mr.  Granger  should  have  taken  to  drinking  again, 
would  it  not  be  dreadful  ?" 

My  knife  and  fork  dropped  from  my  hands,  and 
I  half  rose  from  the  table,  so  pained  and  startled 
was  I  by  this  suggestion. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  that  cannot  be  I"  I  replied,  as  I  made 
an  effort  to  compose  myself.  "  Mr.  Granger  is  too 
strong,  and  too  well  established  in  his  reformation." 

"  From  what  I  have  heard  you  say,"  returned  my 
"I  have  been  inclined  to  think  him  too  self- 
confident  The  boastful  are  not  always  the  farthest 
removed  from  peril ;  and  Granger  has  shown  a 
weakness  in  this  direction.  His  'I  will  not,'  in 
which  you  and  he  have  put  so  great  faith,  may  have 
proven  his  stone  of  stumbling." 

'*  Why  do  you  say  that  ?"  I  demanded,  in  a  voice 
meant  to  be  assured,  but  into  which  came  a  betrayal 
of  weakness  and  fear. 

"A  man,"  replied  my  wife,  "who  has  such  a 
fast  faith  in  his  *  I  will  not/  as  Granger  possesses, 
may  fall  through  over-confidence  in  the  power  of 
self-mastery." 

"How?" 


52  STEONG  DRINK; 

"He  may  trust  it  too  far."   • 

"I  do  not  get  your  meaning.     "What  is  it?" 

"  Your  friend  is  offered  a  glass  of  wine.  The 
sight  and  the  odor  kindle  into  a  sudden  flame  the 
old  desire.  He  is  conscious  of  strength,  and  with 
an  emphatic  mental  '  I  will  not !'  turns  from  the 
tempting  glass.  But,  suppose,  in  his  conscious,  self- 
centered  strength,  as  you  call  it,  he  should  say,  '  I 
will  not  taste  but  a  single  glass/  what  then  ?  Is  he 
not  as  sure  of  himself  after  a  single  glass  as  he  was 
before  ?  Can  he  not  say, l  So  far  and  no  farther  ?' ' 

"You  know  that  he  cannot,"  I  replied,  almost 
sharply,  for  her  suggestion  had  struck  me  like  a 
blow.  "  That  single  glass  would  not  only  break  the 
strength  of  his  will  but  give  to  appetite  a  new  and 
stronger  power." 

"  But,  suppose,  in  his  self-confidence,  he  did  not 
believe  this?  When  we  are  well  and  strong  we 
make  light  of  over-strain,  and  the  unseen  but  subtle 
influences  of  miasma.  Don't  you  see  the  perpetual 
danger  in  which  he  would  stand  ?" 

I  did  see  it  as  I  had  not  seen  it  before,  though 
many  times  fears  and  misgivings  had  troubled  me. 

"  But  about  Mrs.  Granger  and  her  daughter  ?"  I 
asked.  "  How  did  they  look  ?" 

"  I  only  saw  them  for  a  moment  or  two  in  the 
vestibule  of  the  church.  At  the  first  glance  I 
scarcely  recognized  Mrs.  Granger.  There  did  not 
seem  to  be  a  particle  of  color  in  her  face,  which  was 
pinched,  as  we  see  it  in  those  who  are  suffering  acute 


TUB  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE.  53 

pain.  She  did  not  look  up  at  any  one,  and  had  the 
manner  of  a  person  who  wished  to  shrink  away 
without  attracting  observation.  Depend  upon  it, 
there  is  something  wrong  with  her  husband." 

"Something  wrong  with  her  husband  1"  It  had 
the  sound  of  a  knell  in  my  ears. 

After  dinner,  I  called  at  Granger's  residence  and 
asked  for  him,  but  was  informed  by  the  servant  that 
he  was  not  at  home.  I  then  inquired  for  Mrs. 
(J ranger,  who  sent  word  that  she  was  not  feeling 
well,  and  asked  to  be  excused.  The  servant's  man- 
ner was  repressed  and  mysterious.  I  went  away 
with  a  heavy  weight  pressing  on  my  heart,  and 
taking  a  car  rode  out  to  the  Park,  thinking  it  pos- 
sible that  I  might  find  Granger  there.  I  spent  the 
whole  afternoon  in  the  neighborhood  of  Belmont, 
but  saw  nothing  of  him.  In  the  evening,  I  called 
at  his  house  again,  but  was  told,  as  before,  that  he 
not  at  home.  There  was  a  look  in  the  servant's 
face,  as  she  made  this  answer,  which  led  me  to 
doubt  its  truth. 

I  made  it  my  business  to  go  to  the  lawyer's  office 
as  early  as  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  day.  He 
had  not  yet  made  his  appearance.  I  returned  at 
twelve ;  but  he  was  still  absent  Then  I  visited  the 
court-rooms  and  inquired  for  him  there ;  but  no  one 
n  membered  to  have  seen  him  within  the  last  two  or 
three  days.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  I  again  visited 
his  office,  but  the  door  was  still  locked. 

On  tin-  m-xt  day,  and  on  the  next,  my  efforts  to 


54  STRONG  DRINK; 

find  Granger  were  no  more  successful.  He  still  re- 
mained away  from  his  office.  A  week  passed  with- 
out my  seeing  him.  I  had  again  and  again  called 
at  his  residence,  only  to  be  informed  that  he  was 
not  at  home. 

Sitting  in  my  office  late  one  afternoon,  I  heard 
the  door  open,  and  turning,  saw  this  man  for  whom 
so  great  a  concern  was  lying  on  my  heart.  Was  it 
all  a  dream,  then,  this  year  of  reform  and  restora- 
tion ? — a  bright,  but  cheating  dream  ?  As  I  had 
seen  him,  debased,  nerveless,  wretched,  a  year  ago, 
so  I  saw  him  now.  Eyes  blood-shotten, — dress 
soiled  and  disordered, — face  shorn  of  all  manliness, 
and  marked  in  every  lineament  with  debauchery 
and  excess ! 

"  Oh,  Granger !  Granger  I"  I  cried  out,  the  sorrow 
and  pain  which  I  felt  going  into  my  voice.  "  And 
has  it  come  to  this  ?  All  your  strength  gone — all 
your  manhood  trodden  into  the  mire  ?" 

"  All  gone,"  he  answered,  in  a  moody,  dogged 
kind  of  way,  as  he  shut  the  door  and  came  a  step 
or  two  forward.  I  saw  that  he  was  considerably 
under  the  influence  of  drink. 

"  I  had  hoped  better  things  of  you  than  this,  Mr. 
Granger,"  said  I,  with  a  measure  of  rebuke  in  my 
voice. 

"  And  I  had  hoped  better  things  of  myself,"  he 
replied,  as  he  sat  down,  or  rather,  dropped  heavily 
into  a  chair.  "But  I  rather  guess  we  reasoned 
without  our  host,  friend  Lyon, — built  on  a  sandy 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  55 

foundation  ;  and  when  the  winds  blew,  and  the  rain 
foil,  and  the  floods  came,  down  went  the  house,  and 
the  fall  thereof  was  great.  Ha!  Isn't  it  so?  Don't 
you  remember  that  talk  we  had  with  Mr.  Stannard 
— about  the  new  leaf  I  had  turned,  and  the  writing 
that  was  to  go  thereon.  You  and  he  differed  about 
it,  1  remember;  and  I  took  your  view  of  the  case. 
But,  d*  you  know,  I've  always  had  a  notion  that  he 
was  nearest  right." 

"  Then,  in  Heaven's  name,  try  his  way  I"  I  ex- 
clainu'd.  "  Anything  to  save  you  from  this  dread- 
ful sin  and  debasement." 

"  That  is,  go  and  join  the  church."  He  gave  a 
short,  ironical  laugh.  "Nice  subject  for  the  church!" 
And  he  looked  down  at  himself.  "But,  see  here, 
Lyon,"  his  manner  changing,  "  I'm  all  cleaned  out. 
Look  I"  and  he  held  his  pocket-book  open.  "  All 
<jonc,  you  perceive.  Had  more  than  a  hundred 
dollars  when — when — I  got  on  this  confounded 
• !  Lend  me  a  twenty.  I  want  to  buy  a  clean 
shirt,  and  get  a  bath,  and  fix  myself  up  before  going 
home." 

"Will  you  fix  yourself  up  and  go  home?"  I 
asked. 

"  Of  course  I  will.  But  I  can't  meet  Helen  and 
the  children  looking  like  this.  I'd  rather  go  ami 
jump  into  the  rivi-r." 

I  hesitated,  not  feeling  sure  of  him.  He  was 
under  the  influence  of  drink ;  and  the  word  of  a 
man  in  this  condition  c;m  rarely,  if  ever,  be  trusted. 


56  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  Honor  bright,  Mr.  Lyon.  I'm  not  going  to  de- 
ceive you.  I've  set  iny  foot  down,  and  don't  mean 
to  drink  another  drop." 

"  Here  are  ten  dollars,"  I  said,  taking  a  bank-bill 
from  my  pocket-book ;  "  but  before  I  give  it  to  you, 
I  must  have  your  word,  as  a  man  of  honor,  that  you 
will  not  spend  a  dollar  of  this  money  for  liquor." 

"  My  word  and  my  honor,  Mr.  Lyon,"  and  he 
placed  his  hand  over  his  heart. 

In  the  next  moment  he  was  reaching  out  eagerly 
for  the  bank-bill,  which  I  let  him  take,  though  not 
without  many  misgivings  as  to  his  proper  use  of  the 
money.  He  rose  immediately  and  made  a  move- 
ment to  leave  the  office. 

"  Not  yet,  Mr.  Granger.  Sit  down  again.  I  wish 
to  have  a  little  more  talk  with  you." 

"  I'll  call  in  to-morrow,"  he  replied,  not  resuming 
his  seat,  and  showing  considerable  eagerness  to  get 
away.  "  Haven't  been  home  since  day  before  yes- 
terday, and  they're  getting  worried  about  me.  Good- 
afternoon  !" 

And  before  I  could  make  a  movement  to  intercept 
him,  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  FOUND  Granger  at  Ins  office  on  the  next  day. 

-  lie  was  writing,  and  did  not  turn  to  see  who 

had  come  in  until  I  had  waited  for  some  moments. 

His  color  heightened  as  he  recognized  me.     There 

;i  look  of  shame  in  his  face,  and  considerable 

embarrassment  in  his  manner. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  I. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  responded,  in  a  dull,  cold 
way.  There  was  not  the  slightest  invitation  to 
fYk'iidly  confidence.  I  felt  him  pushing  me  off 
almost  as  distinctly  as  if  his  action  had  been  phy- 
sical instead  of  mental. 

"Just  looked  in  to  see  how  you  were,"  I  re- 
marked. "  All  right,  I  hope?" 

He  turned  a  little  from  me,  not  making  any 
reply.  While  I  was  still  in  doubt  as  to  what  it 
were  best  for  me  to  do  or  say,  a  client  came  in  to 
consult  him  on  business,  which  gave  me  an  oppor- 
tunity to  retire  from  the  office.  I  was  glad  of  this, 
for  I  was  not  sure  as  to  Granger's  real  state  of 
mind ;  nor  half  so  confident  as  I  had  been  a  year 
before  that  I  could  give  the  wise  counsel  a  man  in  his 
condition  so  greatly  needed.  That  he  had  faithfully 
57 


58  STRONG  DRINK; 

tried  the  prescription  which  I  gave  him  then,  I 
knew ;  and  there  was  this  to  be  said  in  its  favor, 
by  its  help  he  had  stood  firm  for  a  whole  year — and 
was  not  that  a  great  deal  ?  True,  but  why  had  he 
gained  nothing  in  moral  and  spiritual  power  during 
all  this  rule  of  the  will  over  his  sensual  nature? 
He  should  have  been  stronger,  more  self-centered, 
more  really  invincible  at  the  end  of  a  year  than  at 
the  beginning ;  and  yet,  the  will  off  guard,  in  some 
moment  of  assault,  and  he  was  again  in  the  hands 
of  his  enemy. 

One  conclusion  forced  itself  upon  me.  This  man's 
condition  was  worse  than  before  he  made  his  reso- 
lute and,  for  a  time,  successful  effort  to  reform.  The 
will-power,  in  which  he  had  trusted  so  confidently, 
had  failed  in  strength  and  vigilance,  and  left  him  a 
prey  to  inrushing  appetite. ,  Even  if  faith  in  him- 
self were  not  destroyed,  it  must  be  a  weaker  faith 
and  less  able  to  contend  with  appetite,  which, 
through  another  victory,  had  gained  a  new  force. 

All  this,  as  I  dwelt  on  the  subject,  grew  clearer 
and  clearer  to  my  mind.  I  could  see  how  a  reso- 
lute will  might  hold  a  man  above  consent  in  any 
and  every  temptation  by  which  he  might  be  assailed; 
and  I  could  also  see  how,  if  the  will  betrayed  the 
man,  and  he  fell,  he  would  be  weaker  for  the  full, 
and  more  easily  overcome  in  a  new  temptation. 
AVI i;it  then?  What  hope  for  him ?  There  would 
be  an  inflowing  of  strength  from  God  with  every 
subsequent  effort  the  man  might  make  to  get  free 


THE  CURSE  ASD  TUB  CURE.  59 

from  the  dominion  of  evil ;  but  would  not  the  re- 
ception of  this  strength  and  the  ability  to  use  it,  be 
in  a  steadily  diminishing  ratio ;  and  would  not  the 
power  of  appetite  increase  with  every  indulgence  ? 

My  faith  in  man's  will  had  received  a  shock. 
There  was  an  element  of  weakness  somewhere. 
Why  should  God  fail  to  give  the  requisite  strength 
when  the  effort  was  sincere  ?  Did  he  indeed  govern, 
as  many  taught,  by  mere  arbitrary  laws ;  affording 
help  to  the  weak  and  perishing  only  in  the  degree 
of  their  compliance  with  certain  legal  conditions? 
Or,  were  the  conditions  not  arbitrary  but  essential  and 
in  the  very  nature  of  things?  If  God  be  good  and 
wise — loving  and  compassionate — ever  seeking  to 
save  to  the  very  uttermost,  must  not  this  be  so? 
God  is  love — love.  Heart  and  soul  held  to  this. 
But,  how  was  the  sustaining  strength  of  this  love  to 
make  itself  a  living  force  in  man?  How?  I  could 
not  see  it  clearly.  Once  it  had  been  very  clear; 
but  my  thoughts  were  in  confusion  now. 

I  had  reached  the  door  of  my  own  office,  and  was 
about  entering,  when  a  sudden  movement  in  the 
street  attracted  my  attention.  People  were  running 
her,  in  an  excited  manner. 

"  Only  a  drunken  row,"  said  a  man  who  was 
standing  near  me. 

"  That  all."     And  I  passed  into  my  ofiicc. 

Only  a  drunken  row  I  I  had  dismissed  the  inci- 
dent as  of  little  account  when  I  was  startled  by  the 
sound  (if  tramping  1'cet  and  dissonant  voices  at  my 


GO  STRONG  DRINK; 

very  door ;  and  in  a  moment  after,  three  men  en- 
tered bearing  the  body  of  a  man,  deathly  pale,  and 
with  the  blood  streaming  from  a  wound  in  his  head. 
I  recognized  him  as  a  well-known  and  prominent 
citizen. 

A  doctor  was  sent  for,  and  after  the  wound  was 
dressed,  the  gentleman  was  removed  to  his  own 
home. 

Only  a  drunken  row!  An  effort  was  made  to 
keep  the  affair  out  of  the  newspapers,  but  not  with 
entire  success.  In  one  afternoon  sheet  this  account 
appeared : 

"ASSAULT  ON  A  PROMINENT  CITIZEN. — A  das- 
tardly assault  was  made  this  morning  on  our  es- 
teemed fellow  citizen,  Harvey  Leonard,  Esq.,  by  a 
ruffianly  fellow  named  Groot.  It  occurred  just  in 
front  of  Egbert's  saloon.  Mr.  Leonard  had  just  left 
the  saloon,  when  Groot  dealt  him  a  severe  blow 
from  behind,  knocking  him  down.  In  falling,  his 
head  struck  the  curbstone,  and  he  received  an  ugly 
wound  above  the  temple.  Mr.  Leonard  was  carried 
into  Frederick  Lyon's  office,  where  the  wound  was 
dressed  by  Dr.  Gerhard.  He  was  then  taken  to  his 
own  home.  We  learn  that  the  immediate  occasion 
of  this  assault  was  a  political  argument  into  which 
Mr.  Leonard  permitted  himself  to  be  drawn  by 
Groot,  and  in  which  both  of  them — they  had  been 
drinking  rather  freely,  we  are  sorry  to  say — got 
angry  and  called  hard  names.  Mr.  Leonard  had 
the  best  of  the  argument,  and  Groot  revenged  him- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  Ql 

self,  after  the  ruffianly  fashion,  by  knocking  him 
down.  He  may  thank  his  stars  if  he  doesn't  have 
to  stand  a  trial  for  manslaughter ;  for  no  one  can 
t<-ll  what  may  be  the  result  of  a  severe  concussion 
of  the  brain.  "\Vhen  removed  to  his  home,  we  under- 
stand that  Mr.  Leonard  was  in  a  half-cometose  state." 

I  had  just  read  this  account  of  the  affair,  and  was 
thinking  of  the  mortification  Mr.  Leonard's  family 
must  suffer  should  it  happen  to  meet  their  eyes — 
there  were  grown-up  sons  and  daughters — when,  to 
my  surprise,  Mr.  Granger  entered  my  office.  He 
smiled  faintly  as  he  came  in,  the  smile  dying  off 
slowly,  and  leaving  his  face  very  grave. 

"  I  want  to  have  another  talk  with  you,  Lyon," 
Tie  said.  u  This  is  a  shocking  affair  of  Leonard's, 
isn't  it  ?" 

"  Shocking  and  sad,"  I  replied. 

"  I  know  this  Groot.  He's  peaceable  enough 
when  sober,  but  a  devil  incarnate  when  drunk.  They 
say  that  Leonard  is  in  a  dangerous  condition." 

"  So  the  Telegraph  intimates." 

"  I  don't  know  when  anything  has  given  me  such 
a  shock.  It  might  have  happened  to  me  as  well  as 
to  Leonard.  Why,  only  a  few  evenings  ago  I  had 
some  sharp  words  with  the  fellow.  I  can  remem- 
ber the  glitter  of  his  angry  eyes.  He  would  have 
struck  me  down  if  he  had  dared.  Liquor  makes 
linids  of  some  men  who  are  as  quiet  and  peaceable 
as  lambs  when  sober.  I've  often  thought  of  that. 
Can  you  explain  it,  Mr.  Lyon?" 


(52  STKOXG  DRINK; 

"  I  have  no  settled  theory  of  my  own  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  but  in  a  book  which  I  read  not  long  ago,  I  saw 
an  explanation  that  set  me  to  thinking." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  The  writer  had  been  speaking  of  the  terrible 
transformations  wrought  in  men  by  drink.  How 
the  once  tender  and  considerate  husband  became 
changed  often  into  a  cruel  fiend.  How  the  loving 
father  grew  indifferent  or  brutal  towards  his  children; 
the  good  citizen  a  social  pest;  and  the  esteemed 
neighbor  an  offence.  How  in  everything  the  order 
of  life  was  changed ;  the  goodly  tree  that  once  gave 
such  generous  fruit  becoming  as  a  thorn  or  bramble. 
He  then  said : 

"  *  We  marvel  at  these  awful  transformations,  won-* 
dering  how  inebriation  can  change  men  into  fiends ; 
how  alcohol,  a  mere  substance  in  nature,  and  with- 
out moral  force,  can,  through  its  action  on  the  brain, 
evolve  a  new  moral  quality — intense,  destructive 
and  infernal.  The  fact  no  one  questions,  for  it 
stands  all  the  while  confronting  and  challenging  us 
in  a  thousand  terrible  and  disgusting  forms ;  and 
yet,  for  all  this,  men  dally  with  the  subtle  agent  of 
hell,  giving  it  a  lodgment  in  body  and  brain,  and 
suffering  it  to  gain  a  large  and  still  larger  action 
among  the  vital  forces,  which  it  never  touches  but 
to  work  disorder.  They  see  how  it  hurts  their 
neighbors ;  but,  strangely  enough,  do  not  fear  for 
themselves. 

" '  There  is  a  truth  about  this  matter  which  few 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE.  (J3 

Mer — a  trutli  tliat,  if  well  understood,  would 
In »1«  1  thousands  upon  thousands  away  from  that  so- 
called  moderate  indulgence  in  alcohol  which  so 
often  betrays  to  utter  ruin.  We  speak  of  man  as 
having  rational  freedom.  The  seat  of  this  freedom 
and  rationality  is  the  brain,  the  physical  organism 
through  which  it  acts  and  influences  the  outer  life. 
If  the  brain  is  hurt  or  disturbed,  the  mind's  healthy 
action  is  at  once  lost ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  an 
evil  force  seems  to  get  possession  of  the  will  as  soon 
as  the  rational  e<iuij>oise  is  lost, 

" '  Whatever  disturbs  a  man's  rational  equipoise, 
gives  evil  forces  a  power  over  him  which  could  not 
otherwise  be  obtained.  Clearly,  then,  to  disturb  the 
train's  healthy  action  by  the  introduction  of  alco- 
hol, through  the  blood,  into  that  wonderfully  deli- 
organ,  is  for  a  man  to  change  so  far  the  true 
heavenly  order  of  his  life,  and  to  open  the  door  for 
an  influx  of  disorder  and  evil.  The  change  may  at 
first  be  very  small,  and  the  disorderly  action  scarcely 
perceived ;  but  is  it  not  clear  to  the  dullest  mind 
that,  if  the  introduction;  of  alcohol  into  the  brain  be 
continued  day  after  day,  and  with  gradual  increase, 
the  time  must  come  when  the  man's  rational  control 
of  himself  will  be  lost?  And  when  this  takes 
place,  he  becomes  subject  to  infernal  influences.' " 

"  This  goes  deeper  than  I  had  thought,"  said 
f  1 1  anger,  as  I  stopped  shaking,  "  and  involves  more 
than  I  can  now  underhand  or  admit.  S)  much  is 
true,  at  least,  that  when  the  brain  is  disturbed  by 


(34  STRONG  DRINK; 

drink,  a  man  comes  under  baleful  influences,  and  is 
far  more  inclined  to  evil  than  to  good.  He  is  quick 
to  take  offence,  and  too  ofter  grows  passionate,  cruel 
and  pitiless,  hurting  even  his  best  beloved.  Ah, 
what  a  cursed  slavery  it  is !" 

A  painful  agitation  disturbed  his  face. 

"  And  the  hardest  to  break  of  any  into  which  a 
poor  mortal  can  unhappily  fall,"  I  said. 

"  Is  there  any  hope,  Mr.  Lyon  ?"  An  anxious, 
half-terrified  look  had  come  into  his  eyes,  as  of  one 
who  had  felt  himself  borne  helplessly  away.  "I 
am  almost  in  despair.  My  will,  in  which  I  thought 
myself  so  strong,  has  failed,  and  I  cannot  trust  it 
again.  It  is  weaker  for  my  fall,  and  must  grow 
weaker  and  weaker  every  recurring  fall.  Do  you 
know  anything  about  inebriate  asylums  ?" 

He  asked  the  question  abruptly,  and  with  the 
manner  of  one  who  had  forced  himself  to  do  some- 
thing from  which  he  had  been  holding  back  with  a 
strong  reluctance. 

"  There  are  the  Sanitarium  at  Media,  and  the  New 
York  State  Inebriate  Asylum  at  Binghampton,"  I 
answered. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  either  of  them  ?" 

I  did  not. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  one  being  cured  at  an 
Inebriate  Asylum  ?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

"  Who  ?     Can  you  find  me  the  man  ?" 

"  No  case  has  come  under  my  personal  observa- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  £5 

tion;  but  I  remember  reading  in  a  New  York 
paper  not  long  ago  a  very  strong  report  on  the  good 
work  which  h:ul  been  done  at  the  State  Asylum." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  the  treatment?" 

"  Only  in  a  general  way.  The  patient  is  removed 
from  old  associations,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  temp- 
tations which  he  had  become  too  weak  to  resist; 
brought  under  the  influence  of  new  social,  moral 
and  intellectual  conditions ;  and  this  for  a  period  of 
time  long  enough  to  give  him  back  the  mastery  over 
himself  which  had  been  lost.  I  remember,  now, 
hearing  a  gentleman  who  had  visited  the  Sanitarium 
at  Media,  say,  that  Dr.  Parish  regarded  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  finest  qualities  of  the  head  and  heart  in 
his  patients  as  the  true  basis  of  a  permanent  recov- 
ery. He  relied  on  that  self-culture  which  promotes 
self-respect,  a  sense  of  moral  obligation,  and  the  de- 
velopment of  a  true  manhood  ;  and  when  this  con- 
sciousness was  realized,  he  considered  the  founda- 
tions laid  for  permanent  safety." 

The  eager  expression  which  was  on  Granger's 
face  as  I  bewail  my  answer  to  his  question,  had  left 
it  by  the  time  I  ceased  speaking. 

"  All  a  delusion,"  he  replied.  "  If  they  can  offer 
a  man  no  other  help,  the  number  of  their  saved  will 
be  few." 

"They  are  many,  I  have  been  told." 

He  shook  his  head  doubtfully  and  gloomily. 

"New  associations,"  said  I,  "the  cultivation  of 
in  \v  more  vigorous  thinking  in  the  ri^ht 

5 


6(5  STRONG  LRISK; 

direction,  a  better  understanding  of  the  pathology  of 
drunkenness,  and  above  all,  the  formation  of  better 
habits,  must  help  a  man  and  give  him  a  new  advant- 
age in  the  struggle  with  appetite.  These  he  will 
gain  while  under  treatment  in  an  asylum." 

"  Have  I  not  had  nearly  all  of  these  for  a  year, 
standing  by  their  help  and  that  of  my  strong  will 
in  the  very  face  of  temptation  ?  And  yet  there 
came  an  hour  in  which  they  were  as  threads  of  flax 
in  a  candle  flame !  You  don't  know  anything  about 
the  wild  rush  this  passion  of  drink  will  sometimes 
make  upon  a  man.  It  is  like  the  sweep  of  an  irre- 
sistible flood. 

"  Look  here !"  He  drew  from  his  vest  pocket  a 
slip  of  paper.  "  I  cut  this  out  of  a  newspaper  to- 
day. It  has  frightened  me.  God  only  knows  where 
I  am  drifting !  It  may  be  to  a  fate  as  dreadful. 
This  slip  of  paper  gives,  briefly,  a  few  facts  in  the 
life  of  a  man  who  once  stood  high  as  a  clergyman, 
and  afterwards  represented  his  State  in  Congress. 
But  drink  cursed  him  and  he  fell  to  the  lowest  level. 
Recovering  himself,  he  enlisted  in  the  temperance 
cause  and  became  not  only  one  of  its  warmest  cham- 
pions, but  rose  to  the  head  of  the  Order  of  Good 
Templars  in  the  State  of  Indiana.  But  he  died  ere 
he  had  reached  his  fortieth  year  and  from  conges- 
tion of  the  brain,  caused  by  a  relapse  into  intem- 
perance !" 

"  Sad  enough !     Does  the  slip  give  his  name  ?" 

"  Let  me  read  it :  '  Schuyler  Colfax,  in  a  recent 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  Qf 

r  referring  to  the  death  of  J.  J.  Talbot,  of  In- 
dianapolis, says :  "  He  has  made  hundreds  of  elo- 
quent and  touching  appeals  for  temperance  all 
over  our  State  within  the  past  two  years,  but  told 
me  that  the  appetite  would  sometimes  become  so  in- 
satiate as  to  almost  defy  control,  though  he  prayed 
on  bended  knee  for  strength  to  resist  it  I  remem- 
ber the  terrible  picture  of  his  own  experience  copied 
in  the  enclosed  article.  He  delivered  it  here,  to  a 
crowded  audience,  hundreds  of  whom,  like  myself, 
were  in  tears,  and  he  uttered  it  in  desponding  tones 
that  seemed  almost  like  the  wail  of  the  lost,  and  as 
if  lie  felt  his  impending  doom  was  inevitable."1 

"  The  extract  referred  to  by  Mr.  Colfax,  is  as  fol- 
lows :  '  But  now  that  the  struggle  is  over,  I  can 
purvey  the  field  and  measure  the  -losses.  I  had  po- 
sition high  and  holy.  This  demon  tore  from  around 
me  the  robes  of  my  sacred  office,  und  sent  me  forth 
churchless  and  godless,  a  very  hissing  and  by-word 
amon^  men.  Afterward  I  had  business,  large  and 
lucrative,  and  my  voice  in  all  large  courts  was  heard 
pleading  for  justice,  mercy  and  the  right.  But  the 
•  lust  gathered  on  my  unopened  books,  and  no 
foot-fall  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  drunkard's 
office.  I  had  moneys  ample  for  all  necessities,  but 
they  took  wings  and  went  to  feed  the  coffers  of  the 
devils  which  possessed  me.  I  had  a  home  adorned 
with  all  that  wealth  and  the  most  exquisite  taste 
could  suggest.  This,  devil  crossed  its  threshold  and 
the  light  faded  from  its  chambers;  the  fire  went  out 


(53  STRONG  DRINK; 

on  the  holiest  of  altars,  and,  leading  me  through  its 
portals,  despair  walked  forth  with  her,  and  sorrow 
and  anguish  lingered  within.  I  had  children,  beau- 
tiful, to  me  at  least,  as  a  dream  of  the  morning,  and 
they  had  so  entwined  themselves  around  their 
father's  heart  that,  no  matter  where  it  might  wander, 
ever  it  came  back  to  them  on  the  bright  wings  of  a 
father's  undying  love.  This  destroyer  took  their 
hands  in  his  and  led  them  away.  I  had  a  wife 
whose  charms  of  mind  and  person  were  such  that 
to  see  her  was  to  remember,  and  to  know  her  was  to 
love.  *  *  *  For  thirteen  years  we  walked  the 
rugged  path  of  life  together,  rejoicing  in  its  sun- 
shine and  sorrowing  in  its  shade.  This  infernal 
monster  couldn't  spare  me  even  this.  I  had  a 
mother  who  for  long,  long  years  had  not  left  her 
chair,  a  victim  of  suffering  and  disease,  and  her 
choicest  delight  was  in  the  reflection  that  the  lessons 
which  she  had  taught  at  her  knee  had  taken  root  in 
the  heart  of  her  youngest  born,  and  that  he  was 
useful  to  his  fellows  and  an  honor  to  her  who  bore 
him.  But  the  thunderbolt  reached  even  there,  and 
there  it  did  its  most  cruel  work.  Ah,  me !  never  a 
word  of  reproach  from  her  lips — only  a  tender 
caress;  only  a  shadow  of  a  great  and  unspoken 
grief  gathering  over  the  dear  old  face;  only  a 
trembling  hand  laid  more  lovingly  on  my  head; 
only  a  closer  clinging  to  the  cross ;  only  a  more 
piteous  appeal  to  Heaven  if  her  cup  at  last  were  not 
full.  And  while  her  boy  raved  in  his  wild  delirium 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  69 

two  thousand  miles  away,  the  pitying  angels  pushed 
the  golden  gates  ajar,  and  the  mother  of  the  drunk- 
ard entered  into  rest. 

"  '  And  thus  I  stand :  a  clergyman  without  a  cure; 
a  barrister  without  brief  or  business ;  a  father  with- 
out a  child ;  a  husband  without  a  wife ;  a  son  without 
a  parent ;  a  man  with  scarcely  a  friend ;  a  soul 
without  a  hope — all  swallowed  up  in  the  maelstrom 
of  drink.' " 

Several  times,  as  he  read,  the  voice  of  Mr.  Gran- 
ger gave  way  and  he  had  to  pause  in  order  to  recover 
himself.  His  hand  shook  so  that  he  was  obliged  to 
lay  the  slip  of  paper  down  on  my  table  to  keep  it 
steady.  His  eyes  were  wet  and  his  face  strongly 
agitated. 

"  Such  a  devil  is  the  devil  of  drink !"  he  said, 
bitterly,  shutting  his  teeth  hard  and  clenching  his 
hands.  "  Cruel  as  hell ;  pitiless  as  the  grave !" 

"  And  knowing  that  he  is  so  cruel  and  so  pitiless, 
Mr.  Granger,  why  place  yourself  for  an  instant  in 
his  power?" 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  collar  and  drew  it  away 
from  his  throat,  as  if  he  were  choking. 

"  The  case  seems  well  nigh  hopeless."  There  was 
a  mournful  despondency  in  his  voice. 

"  Say  not  so.  That  of  Mr.  Talbot  is  largely  ex- 
ceptional. There  must  have  been  with  him  an 
inherited  appetite." 

I  was  looking  at  Mr.  Granger,  and  noticed  a 
change  pass  over  his  face,  which  had  become  sud- 


70  STRONG  DRINK; 

denly  pale.     There  was  a  startled  expression  in  liis 
eyes. 

"  A  what  ?"  he  asked,  a  little  breathlessly. 

"  An  inherited  tendency." 

'"You  don't  imagine  there  is  anything  in  that, 
Mr.  Lyon?" 

"  Undoubtedly  there  is,"  not  at  the  moment  think- 
ing of  any  application  by  Mr.  Granger  of  my 
remark  to  his  own  case.  "  The  law  of  transmission 
is  well  established.  Children  not  only  inherit  the 
physical  likenesses  and  peculiarities  of  their  parents, 
but  their  mental  and  moral  qualities  also.  A  de- 
praved appetite  in  a  father  will,  if  indulged,  be 
surely  transmitted  to  his  child." 

"What  hope  for  the  child,  then?" 

"  All  hope,  if  he  hold  the  appetite  as  a  wild  beast 
sleeping.  It  cannot  hurt  him  while  it  sleeps.  But 
let  him  beware  how  he  awakens  it  with  a  taste  of 
blood  on  its  tongue.  No  inherited  evil  can  hurt  us 
until  we  give  it  a  new  life  in  ourselves.  Until  then 
it  is  only  potential." 

No  light  came  back  into  Granger's  countenance. 
There  was  about  him  a  statue-like  stillness  and  a 
fixedness  of  look,  as  though  he  were  gazing  at  some- 
thing strange  and  almost  fearful. 

"This  gives  the  case  a  new  aspect,  Mr.  Lyon." 
There  was  a  forced  quiet  in  his  voice  as  he  said  this, 
turning  to  me  as  he  spoke.  I  saw  another  change 
in  his  countenance,  which  now  bore  signs  of  con- 
scious weakness.  He  gave  me  the  impression  of  one 


THE  CURSE  AKD  THE  CURE.  7^ 

•svlio  l::ul  foiled  his  arms  in  the  face  of  danger,  all 
confidence  in  effort  gone.  "  A  man  may  repent  and 
be  saved  from  the  curse  of  his  own  transgressions, 
but  if  the  sin  of  his  father  be  laid  upon  him,  what 
hope  is  there  of  salvation  ?" 

The  truth  flashed  on  my  mind.  Here  was  a  case 
of  inherited  appetite;  and  the  victim's  first  sus- 
picion of  the  fact  had  destroyed  in  him,  for  the 
time  being,  all  remaining  faith  in  the  value  of  resis- 
tance. 

"  The  case  is  only  the  harder,"  I  replied ;  "  but 
not  desperate.  There  must  be  a  more  vigilant  watch 
and  ward;  a  more  earnest  and  never-ceasing  conflict; 
a  daily  death-grapple  with  the  foe,  if  need  be.  And 
is  not  freedom  from  his  infernal  power  worth  all 
this?" 

"  Worth  it  ?  Aye !  Worth  all  a  man  may  do  or 
dare!" 

There  swept  into  his  face  the  flush  and  strength 
of  reviving  confidence. 

"  Did  the  criminality  of  this  thing  never  strike 
you  ?"  I  asked,  determined  to  try  the  force  of  a  new 
incentive. 

"  Criminality  ?"  He  gave  a  kind  of  start,  and  the 
warmer  color  which  had  come  into  his  face  died 
out. 

"  Nor  the  perpetual  danger  in  which  one  who  lets 
the  devil  of  drink  get  possession  of  his  brain  stands 
of  becoming  a  criminal  before  the  law  ?  The  deeds 
of  a  devil  are  very  apt  to  be  devil i>h." 


72  STRONG  DRINK; 

He  set  his  eyes  on  me  with  a  fixed  stare,  waiting 
my  farther  speech. 

"Your  profession  makes  you  familiar  with  the 
causes  of  crime,"  I  continued,  "  and  you  know  that 
over  seventy  per  cent,  of  the  crimes  and  vicious  acts 
which  the  law  punishes  by  fines,  imprisonments  or 
death,  are  caused  by  inebriation." 

He  still  gazed  at  me  without  speaking. 

"  Groot  is  an  inoffensive  man  while  sober,  but  a 
brutal  fiend  when  drunk.  When  sober,  he  would 
not  have  injured  a  hair  of  Mr.  Leonard's  head — 
drunk,  he  made  a  cowardly  and  murderous  assault 
upon  him." 

Granger  drew  a  deep,  quivering  breath,  but  made 
no  reply.  I  went  on. 

"  No  man  who  takes  this  devil  into  his  brain,  so 
giving  him  the  control  of  will  and  action,  can  tell 
what  may  be  the  consequences.  When  he  gets  back 
into  himself  again,  there  may  be  blood  upon  his 
hand!  Whose  blood?  Is  the  insane  drunkard 
careful  in  his  discriminations?  Is  the  beloved 
wife,  or  sweet  young  daughter,  or  innocent  babe, 
in  no  danger?  What  say  the  records  of  our 
courts  ?" 

I  paused,  for  the  face  of  the  lawyer  had  become 
intensely  agitated,  and  there  were  beads  of  sweat  on 
his  forehead. 

"  This  criminal  aspect  of  the  case,"  I  resumed, 
seeing  that  he  made  no  response,  "is  one  of  the 
most  serious  that  drinking  presents ;  and  is  not  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'IlE.  73 

man  who,  to  gratify  a  mere  appetite  which  he  knows, 
if  indulged,  will  destroy  his  moral  sense,  and  induce 
temporary  insanity,  as  guilty  of  the  crimes  he  may 
commit  while  intoxicated  as  if  he  had  committed 
them  sober?  A  good  citizen  will  see  to  it,  that  he 
does  not  wrong  his  neighbor ;  and  a  good  husband 
and  father  that  his  wife  and  children  have  care,  pro- 
tection and  love.  Is  he  a  good  citizen,  or  husband, 
or  father,  who  voluntarily  transforms  himself  into 
a  cruel  and  destructive  demon  ?  The  crime  and  re- 
sponsibility of  this  thing  cannot  be  escaped,  Mr. 
Granger,  and  I  press  upon  you,  in  all  solemnity, 
this  view  of  the  whole  sad  question.  If  you  go  away 
from  here,  and,  before  reaching  your  home,  suffer 
appetite  to  draw  you  back  again  into  the  vortex 
from  which  you  are  trying  to  escape,  and  on  the 
outer  edge  of  which  you  are  resting  now,  who 
can  tell  whether  to-morrow  may  not  find  you  at 
the  bar  of  justice,  with  crime  written  on  your  fore- 
head !" 

Granger  started  to  his  feet  and  threw  up  his 
hands  with  a  bitter  cry,  then  clasped  them  tightly 
across  his  forehead.  He  stood  for  several  moments 
in  this  attitude,  his  manner  that  of  one  in  swift 
debate. 

"  N'o,  Mr.  Lyon,  not  that — not  that!"  he  said, 
huskily,  as  he  turned  to  me.  "  Not  a  criminal !'' 

!!•;  sat  down  again,  as  if  from  sudden  loss  of 
strength.  I  saw  that  he  was  trembling. 

"  I  trust  not,  Mr.  Granger.     But  there  is  no  more 


74  STRONG  DEINK; 

immunity  for  you  than  for  another.  These  drink- 
devils  are  no  respecters  of  persons.  If  you  let  them 
in  you  become  their  slave,  and  no  one  can  tell  how 
soon,  nor  how  deeply,  they  may  lead  you  into  crime 
and  disgrace." 

He  gave  an  involuntary  shudder.  After  this,  we 
talked  more  calmly.  The  idea  of  criminality  be- 
came a  central  one  in  his  mind.  It  had  never  before 
occurred  to  him.  He  was  a  man  of  sensitive  honor ; 
and  this  thought  of  crime  against  society,  and 
against  his  family,  wrought  with  him  strongly.  Not 
alone  the  crime  of  violence,  as  at  first  presented,  but 
the  crime  of  robbery  towards  those  who  had  a  claim 
on  him  for  services  and  protection.  I  was  careful 
to  go  over  the  ground  with  him  as  widely  as  possible; 
and  especially  to  dwell  on  the  great  crime  against 
wife  and  children  which  a  man  commits  who  robs 
them  through  the  waste  and  self-wrought  incapacity 
of  drunkenness. 

Granger  sat  with  me  for  a  whole  hour,  gathering 
up  motive  for  a  new  struggle  with  his  enemy,  and 
setting  his  mental  forces  in  array.  The  idea  of 
criminality  in  drunkenness  took,  I  was  glad  to  see, 
a  deeper  and  deeper  hold  upon  him.  He  was  very 
severe  on  himself,  in  referring  to  the  wrongs  his 
family  had  once  suffered;  and  did  not  hesitate  to  call 
his  conduct  towards  them  an  aggravated  crime. 

"  You  have  helped  me  to  my  feet  again,"  he  said, 
holding  my  hand  tightly,  as  he  was  about  leaving 
my  office,  "  and  may  God  bless  you ;  not  for  my 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  75 

sake  only,  but  for  the  sake  of  ray  wife  and  children. 
A  criminal !  No,  no,  no !  A  good  citizen,  an  hon- 
orable man ;  Alexander  Granger  will  be  all  these — 
but  not  a  criminal !  Good-bye !  I  am  your  debtor 
more  than  can  be  estimated  in  any  count  of  gold. 
Good-bye,  and  again,  may  God  bless  you  1" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MY  confidence  in  Granger's  ability  to  control 
his  appetite  by  means  of  the  new  moral  ele- 
ment which  had  been  summoned  to  his  aid,  was  not 
as  strong  as  I  could  have  wished.  A  serious  ground 
of  fear  lay  in  the  fact,  which  had  been  fully  admitted, 
of  his  father's  intemperate  habits,  for  I  clearly  un- 
derstood the  subtle  power  of  all  transmitted  inclina- 
tions ;  especially  when  by  indulgence  these  inclina- 
tions are  lifted  above  the  region  of  latent  impulse 
and  become  a  living  force,  the  hereditary  and  the 
acquired  acting  in  the  same  direction.  How  power- 
ful had  been  their  action  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Granger, 
was  manifest  in  his  sudden  fall  after  a  whole  year 
of  abstinence.  In  this  renewed  struggle,  was  he 
not  weaker,  and  these  combined  forces  stronger,  than 
before?  I  could  not  get  my  mind  free  from  the 
depressing  effects  which  were  wrought  in  me  by  this 
view  of  the  case. 

But  my  anxieties  were  apparently  groundless. 
Granger  stood  firm  again ;  and  I  had  cause  for 
renewed  and  stronger  hope  in  the  permanence  of  his 
reformation  in  the  fact  that  he  was  less  boastful  as 
to  his  strength,  and  more  careful  to  keep  as  far  away 
from  temptation  as  possible.  I  made  it  a  duty  to  see 
76 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl'ilK.  77 

him  frequently,  and  to  give  him  all  the  moral  sup- 
port in  my  power.  There  were  times  when  he 
talked  to  me  very  freely  about  his  old  life,  and  about 
the  latent  force  of  the  old  serpent  of  appetite  on 
which  he  had  set  his  heel. 

"  I  am  painfully  conscious,"  he  said  to  me,  one 
d;iy — it  was  several  months  after  his  sudden  fall, 
and  quick  recovery  of  himself  again — "that  appe- 
tite is  only  held  down  by  force ;  and  that  at  any 
moment  it  may  give  a  vigorous  spring  and  seek  to 
throw  its  slimy  folds  around  me." 

"  And  for  this  cause  you  are*  always  on  guard,"  I 
replied. 

"  Always." 

"  I  Icivin  lies  your  safety.  You  are  stronger  than 
your  enemies ;  but,  to  be  safe,  must  never  unbuckle 
your  armor  nor  lay  aside  your  shield." 

"Always  a  soldier;  always  in  front  of  the  enemy; 
always  standing  on  guard !  It  is  a  hard  life  for  a 
man  t<>  live.  How  I  long,  sometimes,  for  peace  and 
rest  and  safety !" 

"  Better  to  stand  always  in  full  armor  than  to  give 
the  slightest  advantage  to  your  cruel  foes.  You 
know  too  well  what  falling  into  their  power 
means." 

"  Alas !  too  well.  But,"  he  added,  with  a  serious 
contraction  of  the  brows,  "  is  there  no  time  in  the 
clays  to  come,  when  thc.se  enemies  shall  be  wholly 
destroyed  or  cast  out?  Am  I  never  to  dwell  in 
safety?" 


78  STRONG  DRINK;'      x 

He  looked  at  me  with  strong  and  eager  question- 
ings in  his  eyes. 

"Sometime,  I  trust."  My  reply  had  in  it  no 
assuring  quality. 

"  Sometime  I  When  ?  In  this  world,  or  only  in 
the  next  ? — in  Heaven,  if  I  ever  should  be  so  for- 
tunate as  to  get  there  ?" 

"  Your  enemies  will  grow  weaker  the  longer  you 
hold  them  down ;  and  will  you  not  be  a  steady 
gainer  in  strength  for  every  day  and  year  you  keep 
this  mastery  over  them?  Every  day  and  year 
dwelling  more  and  more  secure  ?" 

"  What  do  you  understand  by  dypsomania  ?"  he 
asked,  abruptly. 

"It  is  a  term  used  by  some  medical  writers  to 
designate  what  they  regard  as  confirmed  inebriety — 
when  the  will-power  is  completely  overthrown,  and 
the  demands  of  the  diseased  organism  for  alcoholic 
stimulus  becomes  so  great  that  the  man  is  literally 
crazy  for  drink,"  I  replied. 

"What  do  they  say  about  it? — the  medical 
writers,  I  mean." 

"  They  give  but  little  ground  for  hope  of  cure  in 
one  so  demented." 

"  Demented  ?  Ah !  I  can  well  believe  it.  Crazy 
for  drink !  I  have  seen  men  so." 

"When  this  condition  is  fully  developed,  these 
writers  say,  the  brain  has  become  deteriorated  in 
quality,  and  its  functions  impaired.  All  the  higher 
faculties  are  more  or  less  weakened.  Reason,  judg- 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CL'RE.  79 

ment,  perception  and  memory  lose  their  vigor  and 
capacity.  The  will  becomes  feeble  and  powerless. 
All  the  moral  sentiments  and  affections  become 
involved.  Conscience,  a  sense  of  accountability,  and 
of  right  and  wrong,  are  all  deadened,  while  the 
lower  propensities  and  passions  are  aroused,  and  ac- 
quire a  new  strength.  Another  effect  has  been 
observed :  No  influence  can  frighten  or  deter  the 
miserable  subject  from  indulging  his  passion  for 
drink.  To  gratify  it,  he  will  not  only  disre- 
<^anl  every  consideration  of  a  personal  nature 
affecting  his  standing  in  society,  his  pecuniary  con- 
dition, or  the  well-being  of  his  family,  but  the  most 
frightful  instances  of  disasters  and  crimes,  as  the 
consequences  of  drinking  fail  to  have  any  effect 
upon  him.  A  hundred  deaths  from  this  cause,  oc- 
curring under  the  most  revolting  circumstances,  fail 
to  impress  him  with  an  adequate  sense  of  his  own 
danger.  He  would  pass  over  the  bodies  of  these 
wretched  victims  without  a  thought  of  warning,  in 
onlcr  to  get  the  means  of  gratifying  his  own  insa- 
tiate thirst  Such,  according  to  medical  testimony, 
Ls  the  dypsomaniac ;  or,  as  some  say,  the  subject  of 
confirmed  alcoholism ;  and  he  is  considered  as  mor- 
ally insane." 

"Fearful!"  ejaculated  Granger;  "and  we  tamper 
with  a  substance  that  can  work  such  ruin  to  the 
souls  and  bodies  of  men." 

"  There  is  something  mysterious  in  the  action  of 
this  substance  on  the  human  body  and  its  func- 


8Q  STRONG  DRINK; 

tions,"  I  replied.  "So. seductive  and  pleasant  in  its 
first  effects — so  enticing  and  so  alluring;  yet  so 
deadly  and  destructive  in  the  end.  An  almost  in- 
visible bond  at  the  beginning  and,  and  light  as  a 
spider's  thread,  but  at  the  last  an  iron  fetter." 

"I  met  with  an  extract  from  a  medical  journal 
to-day  that  gave  me  a  startling  impression  of  inse- 
curity," said  Granger.  "As  you  intimated,  there 
must  be  something  occult  and  mysterious  in  the 
way  alcohol  works  its  insidious  changes  in  the  human 
economy.  We  know,  alas !  too  well,  that  here  effect 
does  not  cease  with  the  removal  of  the  cause.  The 
thirst,  which  increases  the  more  it  is  indulged,  is 
not  extinguished  by  prolonged  denial.  The  man 
never  gets  back  to  his  normal  state — to  a  point  where 
a  single  glass  of  liquor  will  produce  no  more  desire 
for  a  second  glass  than  did  the  first  he  drank  in 
youth  or  early  manhood.  One  would  suppose  that, 
after  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  abstinence,  the 
man  would  regain  his  old  condition,  and  be  able  to 
taste  wine  or  spirits  without  immediate  danger. 
That  the  appetite,  if  indulged,  would  have  only 
gradual  increase  as  before.  But  all  experience  and 
observation  testify  that  this  is  not  so,  and  the  extract 
from  a  medical  journal  to  which  I  have  just  referred 
professed  to  give  the  pathological  reason." 

"  And  what  is  the  reason  so  given  ?"  I  asked. 

"  It  startled  me,  as  I  have  said,"  he  answered. 
"The  statement  alleges  that  a  physician  of  some 
eminence  made  careful  examination,  by  dissection, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  31 

of  the  blood  and  internal  organs  of  persons  who, 
before  death,  had  used  intoxicating  drinks  freely, 
and  found  in  these  subjects  an  enlargement  of  the 
blood  globules,  as  well  in  the  brain  as  in  the  other 
organs,  so  that  they  stood,  as  it  were,  open-mouthed, 
at  hirst  always,  and  eager  for  drink." 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  abstinence  from  alcoholic  bever- 
ages must,  in  time,  change  this  condition,  and  the 
blood  globules  shrink  to  their  old  dimensions." 

"  The  fact  does  not  bear  out  the  inference.  It  is 
farther  stated,  that  the  physician  referred  to,  after 
clearly  ascertaining  the  existence  of  this  morbid 
change,  had  the  opportunity  to  dissect  the  brain  of 
a  man  who,  after  being  a  drunkard  for  many  years, 
reformed  and  lived  soberly  until  he  died.  His  sur- 
prise was  great  when  he  discovered  that  the  unnat- 
urally large  globules  of  the  blood  had  not  shrunk 
to  their  proper  size.  Though  they  did  not  exhibit 
the  inflammation  seen  in  the  drunkard's  brain,  they 
were  enlarged,  and  ready,  it  seemed,  on  the  instant, 
to  absorb  the  waited-for  alcohol,  and  resume  their 
old  diseased  condition.  The  conclusion  to  which 
the  physician  came  was  given  in  the  brief  article. 
He  believed  that  he  saw  in  this  morbid  state  of  the 
brain  the  physical  part  of  the  reason  why  a  man 
who  has  once  been  a  drunkard  can  never  again  as 
long  as  he  lives,  safely  take  one  drop  of  alcoholic 
liquor.  He  thought  he  saw  why  a  glass  of  wine 
put  a  man  back  in.-tantly  to  where  he  was  when  he 
drank  all  the  time.  He  saw  the  citadel  free  from 
6 


32  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  enemy,  but  undefended — incapable  of  defence — 
its  doors  wide  open,  so  that  there  was  no  safety 
except  in  keeping  the  foe  at  a  distance,  away  beyond 
the  outermost  wall." 

"If  this  be  true,  every  reformed  man  should 
know  it,"  I  said.  "The  statement  is  remarkable, 
and  great  pains  should  be  taken  to  ascertain,  by 
repeated  examinations,  whether  it  hold  good  in  other 
cases  or  not.  That  there  is  a  change  in  the  physical 
condition  of  inebriates,  we  all  know;  and  we  also 
know  that  this  change  is  permanent.  But  whether 
it  be  in  the  blood  globules  or  not,  the  fact  itself 
should  stand  as  a  perpetual  warning  to  men  who 
have  at  any  time  been  the  slaves  of  this  appetite. 
And  I  do  not  think,  Mr.  Granger,  that  you  should 
find  in  the  philosophy  of  inebriation  here  educed 
anything  to  discourage  you,  but  rather  a  new  motive 
for  keeping  your  foe  at  a  distance,  away  beyond  the 
outermost  wall,  as  has  been  said." 

"  But  the  citadel  incapable  of  defence — its  doors 
wide  open !  Think  of  that,  Mr.  Lyon !" 

"  Yes ;  but  the  enemy  dislodged,  and  driven  over 
the  frontier — held  in  the  far  distance,  and  the  man 
able,  if  he  will,  to  hold  him  there  forever." 

"  Ah !  yes,  yes.  The  old  story.  No  safety  but  in 
eternal  vigilance."  Granger  spoke  as  one  who  felt 
weary  and  despondent. 

"  But  safety.  Don't  forget  that,  my  friend !  Peace 
and  safety.  Rich  harvest-fields,  and  secure  abiding. 
Are  not  these  worth  all  the  vigilance  one  may  give?" 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  83 

"Yes,  yes;  his  eternal  vigilance!"  He  roused 
himself  as  he  spoke.  "What  a  weak  coward  I  am! 
But  I  know  my  enemy,  and  the  vantage  ground  he 
holds." 

"  The  vantage  ground  is  yours,  instead,"  I  made 
reply.  "  Don't  forget  that ;  and  let  each  new  reve- 
lation you  get  of  your  enemy's  strength,  alertness 
and  malignant  hate,  only  act  upon  you  as  a  new 
motive  for  watchfulness.  Let  the  resolute  will  that 
held  you  safe  for  a  whole  year,  add  its  strength  to 
the  new  motives  and  considerations  which  are  in- 
fluencing you  now." 

He  withdrew  his  gaze  from  me,  and  remained  in 
thought  for  a  considerable  time. 

"  You  are  not  a  church-member  ?"  lifting  his  eyes 
to  my  face.  I  noticed  a  new  quality  in  his  tone  of 
voice. 

"  No ;  I  have  never  connected  myself  with  any 
religious  society." 

"Why  not?" 

"  It  might  be  difficult  to  assign  a  reason  that  would 
be  entirely  satisfactory  to  any  but  myself,  seeing 
that  I  am  a  reverent  believer  in  Holy  Scripture  and 
in  the  divinity  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ.  But  I  do  not  find  in  the  sphere  of  worship, 
in  the  ordinary  range  of  preaching,  and  in  the 
practical  illustrations  of  Christianity  seen  in  the 
lives  and  conversation  of  most  of  the  church-mem- 
bers I  happen  to  know,  anything  to  awaken  a  desire 
to  cast  in  my  lot  with  '  God's  people,'  as  they  are  in 


84  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  habit  of  styling  themselves.  They  have  too 
much  cant  of  Sunday  piety  and- too  little  week-day 
charity  to  suit  me.  The  teachings  of  Christ  are 
very  explicit,  and  no  man  is  a  Christian,  let  him 
profess  what  he  may,  who  does  not  live  according  to 
His  divine  precepts.  To  be  a  Christian,  means  a 
great  deal  more  than  to  be  called  by  His  name ;  as 
so  many  really  seem  to  think.  To  join  a  church, 
and  take  part  in  its  worship  and  ordinances,  doesn't 
make  a  Christian.  It  may  make  a  self-deceiving 
Pharisee  or  hypocrite ;  which  is  to  be  in  a  more 
dangerous  spiritual  condition  than  that  of  honest 
unbelief.  I  have  too  deeply-seated  a  reverence  for 
these  things  to  enter  into  them  lightly,  or  to  make 
of  them  a  stepping-stone  to  influence  and  respecta- 
bility, as  I  fear  is  so  frequently  the  case." 

Mr.  Granger  drew  a  long  sigh  as  I  stopped  speak- 
ing, and  I  saw  a  disappointed  expression  in  his  face. 

"  Have  you  thought  of  joining  the  church  ?"  I 
inquired. 

"Oh,  yes!  I've  thought  of  everything."  He  spoke 
with  a  slight  disturbance  of  manner.  "  But  the 
question  has  always  been,  'What  help  will  the 
church  give  me?'  and  so  far  the  answer  has  not 
been  satisfactory.  That  case  of  Mr.  Talbot,  about 
which  we  talked  once,  has  been  a  source  of  consid- 
erable discouragement.  He  was  a  clergyman,  you 
know,  in  the  church,  and  one  of  its  teachers ;  and 
yet  the  church  did  not  save  him  from  drunkenness." 

"  And  you  remember,"  I  added,  "  that  he  used 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.         35 

often,  as  he  said,  to  pray  to  God  on  bended  knees 
for  strength  to  resist  the  demon  of  drink,  but  all 
without  avail." 

"  Yes ;  I  remember  it"  His  voice  despondent, 
and  a  gloom  settling  over  his  face. 

What  did  this  mean  ?  The  truth  began  to  dawn 
on  me.  There  had  been  one  reserve  of  hope  left  in 
the  mind  of  Granger.  When  all  else  failed,  he 
would  go  to  God  for  help ;  and  in  my  seeming  de- 
predation of  the  church  as  a  means  of  rescue,  had 

I  not  well  nigh  destroyed  this  hope? 

"  You  do  not  believe  in  the  value  of  prayer  ?" 
He  put  the  question  sharply. 

"  I  must  reject  the  Bible  if  I  reject  the  value  of 
prayer.  It  is  full  of  exhortation  to  pray.  'Watch 
and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation,'  are  the  words 
of  our  blessed  Lord  himself.  But  you  will  notice 
that  the  first  injunction  was  to  'watch;'  this  is  the 

II  Kin's  part     If  he  be  not  watchful — ever  on  guard 
and  ivudy  to  resist  the  tempter — his  prayers  will  be 
oili-red  in  vain.     In  the  clergyman's  case,  prayer  on 
bended  knees  could  not  have  been  supplemental 
with  a  due  degree  of  watchfulness.    In  far  too  many 
cases  prayer  goes  for  nothing,  I  fear.     Is  a  man 
secure  i  i  oin  robbers  if  he  only  pray  for  protection, 
and  give  no  care  to  the  bolting  and  barring  of  his 
liou.-e'/     Or  saved  from  drowning,  if  he  put  to  sea 
in  a  leaky  vessel,  trusting  that  God  will  keep  the 
wretched  craft  ailoat  through  the  agency  of  prayer? 
There  must   l>e  praying  and   working,  asking  and 


86  STEONO  DRINK; 

doing ;  the  putting  forth  of  our  utmost  strength,  at 
the  same  time  that  our  cry  for  help  goes  up.  This 
is  my  idea  of  effective  prayer." 

There  came  back  into  Granger's  face  a  more  as- 
sured expression. 

"  I  see  reason  in  that,"  he  said.  "And  yet,"  after 
a  pause,  "  how  much  easier  just  to  cry  out,  as  Peter 
did,  *  Save,  Lord !'  and  be  saved  without  an  effort  to 
bear  yourself  above  the  engulfing  water." 

"  Did  Peter  make  no  effort  ?"  I  asked. 

"  None.     He  just  cried  out,  *  Lord,  save  me !' ' 

"  What  was  he  doing  ?" 

"Trying  to  go  to  the  Lord  over  the  angry 
waters." 

"  Walking,  as  steadily  as  he  could,  on  the  turbu- 
lent billows.  Walking,  you  see;  trying  to  get  to 
Jesus ;  doing  his  best.  And  this  means,  I  think, 
that  we  must  do  something  in  the  way  of  going  to 
the  Lord  besides  mere  looking  toward  him  and  call- 
ing upon  Him.  We  must  endeavor  to  walk — that 
is,  to  live  right — and  the  first  step  in  right  living  is 
to  l  cease  to  do  evil/  He  who  thus  tries  to  go  to 
Christ,  over  the  tempestuous  waves  of  sin  that  leap 
about  his  feet,  will,  when  his  '  Save,  Lord/  breaks 
out  in  a  half-despairing  cry,  find  himself  grasped  by 
one  who  is  mighty  to  save." 

The  strength  of  his  countenance  increased. 

"  You  have  given  me  some  light.  Help  does  not 
come  to  effortless  weakness." 

"  Not  the  help  that  saves  a  man  from  the  wretch- 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  37 

edness  that  sin  lias  brought  upon  him.  He  sinned 
freely,  and  God  did  not  hold  him  back  from  sin 
with  a  force  greater  than  his  will,  for  that  would 
have  been  to  destroy  in  him  all  that  makes  him 
human,  his  rationality  and  his  freedom.  As  he 
sinned  freely,  breaking  God's  laws,  so  he  must  re- 
pent and  return  freely.  He  must  come  back  of 
himself,  as  did  the  Prodigal  Son  ;  but  God  will  see 
him  afar  off  and  run  to  meet  him,  and  throw  His 
loving  arms  about  him  and  rejoice  over  him.  But, 
in  all  this,  He  will  not  touch  his  freedom;  will  do 
not  1  ling  for  him  in  which  the  man  does  not,  as  it 
,  do  the  things  for  himself,  God  being  his 
helper." 

I  saw  Granger's  countenance  begin  to  fall  again. 

"  If  I  could  only  see  it  clearly,"  he  answered.  "If 
I  only  knew  just  how  God  saves  to  the  uttermost  all 
who  come  unto  Him." 

"  Don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  it  just  now," 
I  replied;  "it  is  disturbing  your  mind,  and  that 
isn't  good.  Hold  fust  where  you  now  stand ;  re- 
sist all  allurement;  give  no  place  to  the  enemy, 
and  whilt;  keeping  vigilant  watch,  pray  for  help 
f ri)iii  (Jo.l.  You  will  be  safer  for  this,  I  am 


.SUIT." 


I  !••  sat  silent  for  a  little  while,  and  then,  us  he 
arose,  said,  shaking  as  if  to  himself:  "  Except  the 
Lord  build  the  house,  they  labor  in  vain  who  build 
it;  except  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman 

:h  in  vain." 


88 


STRONG  DRINK; 


I  did  not  think  it  well  to  make  any  reply.  He 
stood  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  waiting  my  resp'onse; 
but  as  I  gave  none,  he  wished  me  a  good-day  and 
retired. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I  HAD  been  drawn,  in  this  interview  with  Gran- 
ger, a  little  away  from  my  old  mooring  ground 
of  thought,  and  I  sat  for  a  long  time  in  deep  reflec- 
tion, trying  to  get  many  things  clear  that  were  veiled 
in  obscurity,  and  to  discover  just  where  I  was  drift- 
ing. This  question  of  prayer  as  an  agency  of 
strength  and  salvation  to  weak,  repentant,  sin-bur- 
dened souls,  was  one,  I  could  see,  of  infinite  import- 
ance. There  was,  with  a  large  class  of  pious  people, 
a  loose  way  of  talking  about  prayer,  and  a  manner 
of  praying  that  was,  to  my  mind,  not  only  irrever- 
ent, but  foolish  and  utterly  valueless.  Of  all  the 
Sunday  services,  the  prayers  to  God,  especially  those 
that  were  extempore,  had  been  most  distasteful  to 
md  oftenest  the  repelling  influence  that  kept 
me  away  from  church.  There  was  a  familiar  way 
of  addressing  God,  and  of  using  His  name  in  vain, 
that  shocked  me,  for  my  reverence  for  the  Divine 
IVing,  a  reverence  implanted  in  childhood,  has 
always  been  very  strong,  and  I  have  never  been  able 
to  pronounce  any  of  the  names  by  which  He  is 
called  without  a  falling  inflection  of  the  voice  which 

Income  instinct! v< . 

I  did  not,  as  a  consequence,  have  much  faith  in 
89 


90  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  prayers  that  I  usually  heard  in  public,  too  many 
of  which  were  mere  bits  of  effective  oratory,  instead 
of  a  humble  submission  of  the  will  to  God.  How 
often,  as  I  listened  wearily  to  one  of  these  long 
prayers,  full  of  vain  repetitions,  has  the  divine  sen- 
tence, "  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  they  that  worship  Him 
must  worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  come  into 
my  mind,  causing  me  to  wonder  that  the  preacher 
had  forgotten  it. 

And  now  there  pressed  in  upon  me  the  question, 
in  what  does  the  power  of  prayer  consist?  Does  it 
change  the  Lord's  attitude  toward  man,  or  only 
man's  attitude  toward  God  ?  Does  it  bring  down 
the  sunlight  into  a  darkened  chamber,  or  only  open 
the  windows  that  its  beams  may  enter?  How  it 
might  change  man's  attitude  toward  God,  I  could,  in 
a  measure  see ;  but  not  how  it  could  change  the  un- 
changeable, render  the  All-Loving  more  tender  and 
compassionate,  or  make  the  Infinite  Father  more 
concerned  for  His  sin-sick,  lost  and  perishing  child- 
ren, for  whom  He  had  bowed  the  heavens  and  come 
down. 

I  saw  that  in  the  right  understanding  of  this  sub- 
ject lay  momentous  things ;  and  I  was  anxious  to 
reach  a  true  perception  of  all  that  was  involved  in 
prayer  as  a  means  of  divine  blessing  and  favor.  My 
thinking  did  not  get  me  far  beyond  a  rejection  of 
the  idea  that  any  change  in  God's  purposes  toward 
man  could  be  wrought  in  Him  by  prayer.  If  He 
were  infinitely  wise  and  infinitely  loving,  He  must 


T1IE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  91 

not  only  know  better  what  external  condition  was 
best  for  a  man  than  the  man  could  know  for  himself 
but  in  the  orderings  of  His  providence  must  so 
arrange  all  things  that  he  would  be  kept  there  until 
his  changing  state  required,  for  his  good,  a  new 
position  in  life. 

But  in  what  way  did  prayer  change  man's  rela- 
tion to  God  ?  I  felt  that  the  truth  lay  here,  but 
was  not  able  to  see  it  clearly ;  and  I  thought  and 
thought  until  I  grew  weary  and  perplexed,  and  for 
relief  of  mind  turned  myself  away  from  the  sub- 
ject 

Several  months  passed  after  this  interview  with 
Mr.  Granger,  and  though  we  met  occasionally,  the 
subject  about  which  we  had  talked  so  earnestly  was 
not  renewed.  I  learned  through  my  wife  that  he" 
came  to  church  with  his  family  now  and  then ;  and 
the  fact  always  gave  me  pleasure,  for  I  had  a  grow- 
ing impression  that  there  was  a  sphere  of  safety 
about  the  church,  and  especially  for  one  like  Gran- 
ger. There  was  in  the  very  fact  of  his  going  to 
church  an  acknowledgment  of  weakness  on  his  part, 
and  a  certain  looking  to  God  for  strength  and  pro- 
teetion.  And  I  had  an  old  and  well-settled  convic- 
tion which  had  come  up  with  me  from  childhood — 
inwrought,  I  doubt  not,  through  my  mother's  teach- 
— that  in  any  and  every  turning  of  the  soul  to 
.  no  matter  how  little  the  turning,  it  must 
receive  a  measure,  large  or  small,  of  strength  to 
resist  the  evils  to  which  we  are  all  so  much  inclined. 


92  STRONG  DRIXK; 

I  had  been  going  oftener  to  church  myself  of 
late,  and  though  my  reason  did  not  give  assent  to 
all  the  preacher  said,  and  I  was  shocked  now  and 
then  by  his  irreverent  way  of  addressing  God,  and 
his  too  frequent  and  needless  use  of  Divine  names 
in  order  to  give  force  to  a  sentence,  or  to  make  an 
oratorical  climax,  I  was  still  able  to  gather  into  my 
thoughts  many  things  that  gave  me  light  for  clearer 
seeing,  and  strength  for  steadier  walking  in  the  path 
of  life.  I  was  growing  less  captious  and  critical — 
less  annoyed  at  what  I  did  not  like,  and  more  earnest 
to  obtain  whatever  good  was  to  be  had  in  the  reli- 
gious services  that  were  held  on  Sunday.  I  found 
myself  taking  a  "new  interest  in  the  lessons  which 
were  read  from  the  Bible,  many  passages  from  which 
"struck  my  mind  with  a  singular  power,  and  left  an 
impression  of  deeper  import  than  I  had  ever  before 
seen  in  them.  I  often  found  myself  pondering  one 
and  another  of  these  passages,  and  giving  to  them 
an  application  which  altered  my  thought  of  God 
and  of  His  ways  with  the  children  of  men.  I  no- 
ticed changes  in  my  states  of  mind,  when  listening 
to  the  Word  of  Sacred  Scripture — I  had  for  some 
years  neglected  reading  it  for  myself — that  occurred 
to  me  as  remarkable.  There  sometimes  fell  upon 
me  a  deep  tranquillity,  as  if  I  had  passed  from  the 
unrest  of  this  world  into  the  peace  of  Heaven.  And 
there  would  come,  at  times,  states  of  self-forgetful- 
ness,  and  a  desire  to  give  my  life  for  others.  I  often 
dwelt  on  these  things,  wondering  what  they  meant. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl  93 

there  not  a  power  in  the  Word  of  God,  which 
di«l  not  appear  in  the  sense  of  its  letter,  but  which 
flowed  into  the  mind  with  that  sense  as  a  soul  into 
the  body  ? 

The  Word  of  God !  WTiat  does  this  mean  ?  The 
ion  came  to  me  one  day  with  such  force  and 
distinctness,  that  it  seemed  as  though  spoken  by  a 
living  voice.  The  Word  of  God!  Could  that  be 
like  a  man's  word ;  limited,  feeble,  finite  ?  Was 
there  any  ratio  between  them  ?  I  thought  of  the 
many  loose  interpretations  which  I  had  heard ;  of 
the  contentions  and  angry  discussions  about  the 
meaning  of  this  and  that  expression  in  the  letter;  of 
the  divisions  and  uncharitableness,  and  persecutions 
even,  which  were  so  sadly  rife  in  the  Christian 
world,  and  all  because  men  vainly  imagined  that 
human  reason  was  equal  to  the  comprehension  of 
Divine  wisdom;  and  set. the  metes  and  bounds  of 
tiH-ir  narrow  doctrine  about  a  Revelation  from  God 
in  which  wen-  divine  and  infinite  things  that  must 
remain  forever  above  the  reach  of  man's  unaided 
reason ;  and  which  only  the  Spirit  of  God  can  make 
known. 

I  marvelled  often  at  the  low  range  and  dull 
platitudes  of  the  pulpit,  at  the  stereotyped  vague- 
ness of  exhortation,  and  at  the  small  influence  of 
I'lvuchers.  There  were  exceptions,  of  course;  but 
how  few !  With  the  Word  of  God  as  the  basis  of 
Christian  teaching,  and  especially  with  the  Word  of 
the  New  Testament,  in  which  our  Lord  himself,  in 


94  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  human  nature  which  He  assumed  in  the  world 
and  made  divine,  gives  in  no  hidden  forms  of  speech, 
the  laws  of  spiritual  life,  through  the  keeping  of 
which  alone  man  can  be  saved ;  with  all  this,  how 
strange  to  hear  from  the  men  who  have  been  chosen 
to  stand  as  watchmen  on  the  walls  of  the  city,  so 
little  about  keeping  the  commandments  in  their 
inmost  spirit  as  the  only  way  of  salvation.  "  He  that 
keepeth  my  commandments,  he  it  is  that  loveth 
me.' 

A  dull,  rambling  sermon,  or  one  in  which  the 
preacher  showed  how  much  more  he  knew  about 
history,  philosophy,  poetry  and  art  than  he  did 
about  divine  things,  would  send  me  home  disheart- 
ened, and  with  a  disinclination  to  go  again,  which 
sometimes  held  me  away  from  church  service  for 
weeks.  But  there  was  in  me  a  growing  hunger  and 
thirst  for  things  spiritual.  .  I  wanted  to  gain  a  clear 
and  more  rational  idea  of  God's  relations  to  and 
dealings  with  man,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  exact 
way  in  which  He  saved  him. 

The  better  influences  of  church-going  on  my  own 
mind  gave  me  encouragement  for  Granger.  I  felt 
sure  that  he  would  come  within  a  sphere  of  protec- 
tion ;  that,  somehow,  he  would  be  brought  into  new 
associations  as  to  his  spirit,  and  be  less  in  danger 
when  exposed  to  assault. 

"  I  haven't  seen  Mr.  Granger  at  church  for  three 
or  four  Sundays,"  said  my  wife,  one  day.  "  I  hope 
there  is  nothing  wrong  with  him  again."  I  saw  a 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  ClJftE.  95 

of  concern  creep  into  her  face.  "  He's  been 
atu-nding  quite  regularly  in  the  past  few  months." 

"  I  saw  him  on  the  street  only  a  few  days  ago,"  I 
replied.  "  There  was  nothing  wrong  about  him  then; 
at  least  nothing  that  I  observed." 

An<l  yet,  as  I  said  this,  I  remembered  that  I  had 
noticed  in  him  something  that  left  a  vague  question 
in  my  mind.  But  it  had  passed  away  and  been  for- 
gotten until  my  wife's  remark  brought  it  back  again. 

"  I  fancied — it  may  only  have  been  fancy,"  Mrs. 
Lyon  said,  "  that  Mrs.  Granger's  face  looked  more 
serious  than  usual." 

"  Only  a  fancy,"  I  replied;  but  still  I  felt  a  weight 
of  concern  settling  down  upon  my  feelings.  It  re- 
mained with  me  all  day  and  troubled  me  as  I  went 
to  my  office  on  the  next  morning.  I  had  made  up 
iny  mind  to  see  Granger  during  the  forenoon,  but 
pressing  business  kept  me  at  my  office  until  two 
o'clock,  when  I  returned  home  to  dinner. 

"  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Granger?"  asked  my  wife, 
as  I  came  in.  There  was  an  air  of  suspense  in  her 
manner. 

"  No.  I  intended  calling  on  him,  but  had  an 
unusually  busy  day." 

"  If  I'm  not  very  much  mistaken,  I  saw  him,"  she 
said. 

-  \Vhere?" 

"  Going  into  a  saloon  on  Sansom  Street." 

"  Xo;  you  must  have  been  mistaken." 

"  I  wish  I  could  think  so ;  but  if  the  man  I  saw 


96  STRONG  DRINK; 

entering  a  saloon,  as  I  passed  down  Twelfth  Street, 
was  not  Mr.  Granger,  then  there  was  a  remarkable 
likeness  in  the  general  appearance  of  the  two  men." 

"  Did  you  see  his  face  ?" 

"  Only  for  an  instant.  He  was  at  the  door  of  the 
saloon  just  as  I  came  in  sight  of  him,  and  in  the 
next  moment  had  disappeared.  His  manner  was 
that  of  one  who  wished  to  avoid  observation.  I  am 
almost  sure  it  was  Mr.  Granger." 

I  had  but  little  appetite  for  my  dinner.  In  the 
afternoon  I  called  at  the  lawyer's  office,  but  did  not 
find  him  there.  Next  day  I  met  him  on  the  street. 
His  manner  was  not  quite  as  frank  and  cordial  as 
usual ;  but  beyond  this  I  saw  no  change  in  him.  It 
was  plain  that  my  wife  had  been  mistaken.  My 
first  impression  was  one  of  relief;  but  a  feeling  of 
complete  confidence  did  not  return,  and  there  was  d, 
weight  on  my  heart  which  I  could  not  throw  off. 

Granger  was  not  at  church  on  the  following  Sun- 
day. His  wife  and  daughter  were  in  attendance  as 
usual,  and  there  was  now  no  mistaking  the  fact  that 
a  portion  of  light  had  gone  out  of  their  faces.  In 
the  afternoon  I  called  to  see  him,  but  he  was  not  at 
home.  About  ten  o'clock  on  the  next  day  I  dropped 
into  his  office,  and  found  him  with  a  segar  in  his 
mouth  reading  a  newspaper.  He  had,  apparently, 
just  arrived,  for  his  green  bag  lay  unopened  on  the 
office  table.  He  started  up  on  seeing  me,  coloring 
a  little,  and  extending  his  hand  with  what  seemed 
to  me  an  excess  of  cordiality.  I  looked  for  the  color 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  97 

to  recede  from  his  face  until  the  skin  was  restored 
to  the  old  healthy  clearness,  but  either  my  eyes  de- 
1  me,  or  the  ruddy  tinge  did  not  fade  out 
entirely. 

(i  ranker  was  not  completely  at  his  ease,  though 
evidently  trying  to  be  so.  I  remained  for  only  a 
short  time,  as  my  call  was  not  a  business  one.  Our 
conversation  did  not  pass  beyond  the  common-place 
topics  of  the  day. 

"Call  in  again.  I'm  always  glad  to  see  you,"  he 
said,  with  the  same  excess  of  cordiality  which  he 
had  shown  on  meeting  me. 

I  was  far  from  feeling  satisfied. 

"  1  low  is  our  friend  Granger?"  I  asked  of  a  mu- 
tual acquaintance  not  many  days  afterwards. 

"  Not  doing  right,  I'm  afraid,"  he  answered. 

"Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"  I've  seen  him  two  or  three  times  of  late  when  I 
fancied  him  the  worse  for  drink." 

"  May  you  not  have  been  mistaken  ?" 


"  Why  did  you  fancy  he  had  heen   drinking?" 
"  There  are  signs  which  one  rarely  mistakes,"  he 


"  If  he  should  get  off  again,"  I  said,  "there  will, 
I      ar,  be  little  hope  for  him." 

"  \Vry  little.    But  he's  been  down  and  up  a  great 
many  times,  you  know." 

"Yes;  but  in  the  very  nature  of  things  he  must 
grow  weaker  with  every  fall." 
7 


98  STRONG  DRINK; 

"Of  course." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  about  him  ?  It's  dreadful 
to  see  a  man  going  headlong  to  destruction.  Is  there 
no  way  to  save  him  ?" 

"  None  that  I  know  of.  When  this  appetite  is 
once  established  with  a  man,  his  case  becomes  almost 
hopeless.  Every  step  he  takes  is  downward.  He 
may  stop  now  and  then,  and  hold  himself  back 
against  the  downward  drag,  but  when  he  moves 
again  the  course  is  still  down,  down,  until  the  gulf 
of  ruin  is  reached  at  last.  Is  it  not  frightful  ?" 
•  I  felt  a  chill  creep  through  my  veins  There 
seemed  in  his  words  a  prophecy  of  utter  ruin  for 
Granger. 

"  He  has  stood  firm,  with  only  a  single  brief  fall, 
for  nearly  two  years,"  I  said. 

"  And  he  might  stand  to  the  end,  but  not  if  he 
dallies  with  the  fatal  cup,"  was  answered.  "  No  man 
in  whom  the  appetite  for  drink  has  once  been  formed 
can  ever  taste  and  be  secure.  Only  in  perfect  ab- 
stinence is  there  perfect  safety.  The  old  appetite 
lies  sleeping,  but  not  dead.  Rouse  it  with  a  glass  of 
wine,  or  beer,  or  spirits,  and  it  will  spring  upon  the 
man  with  the  old  intense  life,  and  he  will  be  as  a 
feeble  child  in  its  grasp.  If  Granger  is  indulging 
again,  he  will  fall  again.  He  may,  through  a  reso- 
lute will,  hold  himself  for  a  little  while  above  excess; 
but  every  glass  he  takes  is  food  to  the  old  desire, 
which  will  grow  stronger  and  stronger  until  its  mas- 
tery is  again  complete." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  99 

"It  doesn't  seem  right  to  hold  ourselves  away 
from  him  in  so  momentous  a  crisis — to  leave  him  in 
the  sweep  of  the  current  and  not  make  an  effort  to 
save  him,"  I  said. 

"  I  (ipubt  if  anything  can  be  done.  At  your  first 
approach,  he  will  either  take  offense,  or  utterly  re- 
1«  ( t  your  intimation  that  he  has  been  indulging 
niruin.  I  know  these  men.  Lying  seems  to  be  one 
of  the  fruits  of  drinking.  Liquor  is  almost  sure, 
earlier  or  later,  to  take  the  truth  out  of  a  man — 
especially  in  anything  that  relates  to  his  cups,  so 
long  as  he  yields  to  indulgence.  Men  will  assure 
you,  even  asking  God  to  witness  the  truth  of  what 
they  say,  that  they  have  not  taken  a  drop  of  liquor 
for  weeks,  when  its  odor  from  their  lips  is  rank  in 
your  nostrils.  I  know  of  nothing  that  so  takes  truth, 
and  honor,  and  all  that  is  good  and  true  and  noble 
out  of  a  man,  as  this  alcohol.  It  is  a  very  hell- 
broth  !" 

I  could  not  rest.  To  stand  away  from  Granger 
in  this  new  peril,  would,  I  felt,  be  little  less  than 
criminal.  How  to  approach  him  without  giving 
offense  was  the  question  I  had  to  consider.  The 
opportunity  soon  came. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  DAY  or  two  afterwards,  as  I  stood  talking 
with  a  friend  in  the  Continental  Hotel,  I  saw 
Granger  pass  into  the  bar.  I  moved  to  a  position 
from  which  I  could  observe  him.  He  called  for  a 
glass  of  ale,  and  drank  U  off  at  a  single  draught. 
His  manner  was  slightly  nervous  and  a  little  hurried. 
I  threw  myself  in  his  way  as  he  left  the  bar,  and 
noticed  a  start  of  surprise  when  his  eyes  rested  on 
me. 

"  Ah !  Lyon.  Glad  to  see  you !"  The  salutation 
was  given  with  heartiness.  But  he  did  not  look  me 
steadily  in  the  face.  We  walked  out  into  the  street, 
both  silent  until  we  reached  the  pavement. 

"  I'm  sorry  about  this,  Granger,"  I  said. 

"  About  what  ?"  He  affected  not  to  understand 
me. 

"You  cannot  use  ale  and  be  safe.  You  know 
this  as  well  as  I  do." 

His  lips  closed  tightly,  and  his  brows  fell.  We 
walked  for  a  little  way,  neither  of  us  speaking. 

"  Come  round  to  my  office,  and  let  us  have  a  talk 
about  this  matter,"  said  I,  as  we  reached  the  next 
corner. 

"  Not  to-day."  He  drew  out  his  watch  and  looked 
100 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE. 

»• 
at  the  time.     "  I  have  an  engagement  with  a  client 

But  don't  give  yourself  any  trouble  about  me,  Lyon, 
I'm  all  right." 

"  But  to-morrow  may  tell  a  different  story,"  I  re- 
plied. "No,  no,  Granger!  You  must  not  go  a 
step  farther  in  this  way.  A  precipice  lies  just  be- 
yond!" 

"Another  time;  but  now  I  must  hurry  to  my 
engagement."  Saying  which,  he  left  me  abruptly. 

.My  concern  was  great.  That  he  could  stand  se- 
cure feeding  his  old,  fierce  appetite  with  a  glass  of 
ale  now  and  then,  I  knew  to  be  impossible,  and  he 
knew  it  as  well — only,  subtle  desire  was  pressing  for 
indulgence,  and  blinding  him  with  false  assurances. 

I  did  not  see  him  again  for  two  or  three  days, 
though  I  had  twice  called  at  his  office.  At  last  I 
found  him  in.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  I 
could  see  from  the  color  of  his  face  that  he  had 
been  drinking,  though  not  to  excess.  He  received 
me  with  the  old  friendliness  of  manner,  and  without 
any  sign  of  embarrassment. 

"  You've  come  for  that  talk  with  me,  I  suppose," 
he  said,  smiling,  and  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 
"All  right  You  see  I'm  not  down  in  the  gutter, 
for  all  the  prophecy  that  was  in  your  face  the  other 
day." 

There  was  a  certain  lightness  of  tone  and  manner 
about  him,  that  in  view  of  the  subject  to  which  he 
referred,  almost  shocked  me.  He  must  have  noticed 
this,  for  he  added,  in  a  more  serious  voice:  "I 


102  STRONG  DRINK; 

t 

know  how  you  feel,  Mr.  Lyon,  but  let  me  assure 
you  that  I  am  in  no  danger  of  falling  back  into 
that  wretched  slough  from  which  you  helped  to  ex- 
tricate me.  I  have  too  vivid  a  remembrance  of  its 
suffocating  mire  and  horrible  foulness  ever  to  let  my 
feet  go  near  its  treacherous  margin  again." 

"  What  and  where  are  the  margins  of  this  dread- 
ful slough  ?"  I  asked. 

He  did  not  answer. 

"  I  saw  you  on  one  of  these  margins,  your  feet  in 
the  very  slime  of  the  pit,*only  a  few  days  ago." 

A  smile  broke  over  his  face. 

"  Your  way  of  putting  it.  But,  seriously,  Lyon, 
I  am  not  in  the  danger  you  think.  How  long  do 
you  suppose  it  is  since  I've  been  using  a  little  ale 
every  day  ?  More  than  two  months.  I  was  getting 
run  down  from  too  close  application  to  business,  and 
the  doctor  said  I  must  have  a  tonic.  '  Take  a  glass 
of  stout  or  bitter  ale  with  your  dinner/  he  said.  Of 
course  that  couldn't  be.  My  wife  would  have  been 
frightened  to  death." 

"  Did  the  doctor  know  anything  of  your  previous 
life  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Can't  say  about  that.     He  may  or  he  may  not." 

"  Your  regular  family  physician  ?" 

"  No.  Haven't  had  a  regular  doctor  in  the  family 
for  three  or  four  years." 

"And  you  have  followed  his  prescription  ?" 

"  Yes ;  only  I  don't  take  the  ale  with  my  dinner. 
I've  felt  like  another  man  ever  since.  Can  do  more 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE,  JQ3 

work  with  loss  exhaustion.  Have  a  cl oarer  head, 
and  more  elastic  feelings.  The  ale  simply  gives  a 
needed  tonic,  which  the  system  absorbs,  and  there 
the  matter  ends." 

"You  think  so?" 

"I'm  sure  of  it" 

"  With  all  your  sad  experience,  Mr.  Granger,  to 
take  so  fearful  a  risk !" 

"  I  know  how  the  thing  looks  to  you,  Mr.  Lyon  ; 
and  I  know  how  it  stands  with  me.  I  am  not  taking 
this  ale  to  gratify  an  appetite,  but  simply  as  a  tonic, 
which  my  system  requires.  Here  lies  my  safety.  I 
am  not  off  guard  for  a  single  moment  I  am  not 
only  using  the  will-power  which  held  me  secure  so 
long,  but  motives  of  good  citizenship,  and  love  and 
duty  towards  my  family  are  more  powerful  than 
ever.  If  appetite  attempts  to  lift  its  head  again,  I 
shall  set  my  crushing  heel  upon  it.  I  am  standing 
in  the  strength  of  a  true  manhood." 

"  I  lave  you  forgotten,"  I  said,  "  that  testimony  of 
a  physician  in  regard  to  the  enlargement  of  the 
blood  globules  in  the  habitually  intemperate?" 

Granger  -made  a  slight  gesture  of  impatience  as 
In-  n -plk-d:  "Nothing  in  it.  I've  talked  with  half 
a  <lo/rii  physicians  and  scientific  men  on  the  sub- 

"  But,  apart  from  that  particular  theory,"  I  said, 

"the  fact  remains,  as  you  know,  that  in  a  man  who 

once  been  intemperate,  certain  changes  in  the 

of  the  body  have  Uvn  wrought,  which  remain 


104  STRONG  DRINK; 

permanent.  Whether  this  change  be  in  the  blccd- 
giobules  or  not,  the  imminent  danger  of  the  man, 
should  alcohol  be  introduced  into  his  blood,  is  just 
the  same.  The  truth  or  falsity  of  the  physician's 
theory  in  no  way  touches  the  essential  facts  in  the 
case." 

As  I  spoke,  I  saw  a  quick,  startled  motion  of  his 
eyes,  but  it  was  gone  in  an  instant. 

"Have  you  forgotten  Mr,  Talbot?"  I  asked. 

"  Such  cases  are  exceptional,"  he  replied,  with  a 
toss  of  the  head.  "  We  don't  meet  with  them  once 


in  an  age." 


"The  history  of  intemperance  is  the  history  of 
such  cases,"  I  replied.  "  You  are  deceiving  your- 
self. Thousands  and  thousands  of  such  men  go 
down  to  dishonored  graves  every  year.  My  dear 
friend,  you  are  taking  a  fearful  risk !" 

Granger  drew  a  little  away  from  me  with  a  slight- 
ly offended  air. 

"  We  shall  see,"  he  answered,  somewhat  coldly, 
and  then  changed  the  subject.  I  tried  to  come  back 
to  it  again,  but  he  pushed  it  aside  with  so  manifest 
a  purpose  not  to  continue  the  discussion  that  I  had 
nothing  left  but  silence. 

Every  day  I  looked  for  his  fall.  But  it  did  not 
come  suddenly,  as  I  had  feared.  The  usual  business 
hour  found  him  at  his  office  with  each  new  morn- 
ing, and  his  presence  in  court  was  as  prompt  and  as 
regular  as  usual.  But  there  was  not  an  observant 
friend  or  acquaintance  who  did  not  see  the  steady 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl'RK  103 

change  that  was  in  progress.  It  was  slow,  but  sure. 
The  man  was  most  warily  on  guard ;  limiting  his 
appetite — holding  it  down — saying  to  it,  "I  am  your 
master.  So  much  and  no  more.  Enough  for  tonic 
and  strength,  but  nothing  for  indulgence."  And  yet, 
from  a  single  glass  of  ale  a  day,  the  concession  to 
appetite  had  reached,  at  the  end  of  three  months,  to 
as  many  as  three  or  four,  by  which  time  the  strong 
will,  and  the  motives  of  interest,  honor  and  affection, 
in  which  he  had  entrenched  himself,  were  beginning 

:iow  signs  of  weakness. 

I  met  him  one  day  about  this  period  of  his  declen- 
sion. It  was  in  the  court-room.  I  had  been  drawn 
thither  through  my  interest  in  a  case  in  which  he 
appeared  as  counsel  for  the  defendant,  a  man  on 
trial  for  his  life — an  old  man,  gray -headed,  bent  and 
broken — one  of  the  saddest  wrecks  I  had  ever  seen. 

man  had  once  been  a  successful  merchant,  and 
the  possessor  of  considerable  wealth.  I  well  remem- 

!ie  time  when  he  occupied  a  handsome  residence 
on  Walnut  Street,  and  when  his  wife  and  daughters 
moved  in  the  best  social  circles  of  our  city.  But  his 
head  was  not  strong  enough  for  the  wine  that  proved 
his  betrayer,  and  in  the  very  prime  and  glory  of  his 
manhood  he  began  to  fall.  Methodical  habits,  and 
the  orderly  progression  of  a  long-established  busi- 
ness, kept  him  free  from  losses  in  trade  for  some 
years  after  his  sagacity  as  a  merchant  had  left  him. 
1'iit  the  time  came  when  the  tide  began  to  turn  ad- 

ly.     Younger  partners,  who  had  new  ideas  of 


106  STRONG  DRINK; 

business,  were  impatient  of  slow  gains.  Into  their 
hands  came  a  larger  and  a  larger  control  of  things, 
and  the  opportunity  for  speculation.  As  in  all  other 
kinds  of  gambling,  trade  speculations  lead  surely  to 
ultimate  losses.  Winning  is  the  exception ;  loss  the 
rule.  It  took  only  a  few  years  to  bring  the  firm  to 
bankruptcy. 

The  merchant  never  recovered  himself.  Capital 
gone,  and  brain  and  body  enervated  by  intemperance, 
he  did  not  even  make  a  struggle,  and  at  the  age  of 
fifty-five  dropped  out  of  useful  life,  and  became  a 
burden,  a  shame  and  a  sorrow  to  his  friends  and 
family.  An  income  in  her  own  right  of  a  few  hun- 
dred dollars  possessed  by  his  wife,  saved  them  from 
utter  poverty.  There  were  two  beautiful  daughters, 
as  refined  and  intelligent  as  any  you  meet  in  the 
most  cultivated  circles.  Alas  for  them!  The  pleas- 
ant places  in  which  they  had  moved  saw  them  no 
more. 

Ten  years  later,  and  the  broken  merchant,  in  a 
frenzy  of  delirium  brought  on  by  drinking,  struck 
down  his  wife  with  a  blow  that  caused  her  death.  A 
trial  for  murder  was  the  consequence,  in  which  Mr. 
Granger  conducted  the  defense.  One  of  the  saddest 
and  most  painful  features  of  this  trial  was  the  appear- 
ance in  court  of  the  two  daughters  as  witnesses,  and 
the  evidence  they  were  compelled  to  give.  I  can  see 
them  now,  with  ten  years  of  sorrow  and  humiliation 
written  in  their  pale,  suffering  faces,  as  they  stood  in 
the  witness-box,  tearful  and  reluctant.  Pity  made 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  d'HE.  107 

cvi  n  the  lawyers  tender  and  considerate  in  pressing 
their  examination;  but  enough  came  out  to  give  the 
heart-ache  to  nearly  all  who  were  in  the  court-room. 
It  was  one  of  the  most  painful  scenes  I  had  ever 
witnessed. 

When  all  the  evidence  was  in,  and  Mr.  Granger's 
turn  came  to  address  the  jury  in  behalf  of  the 
prisoner,  the  pause  and  expectation  became  breath- 
less. The  poor  old  white-haired  man  bent  toward 
him  with  a  helpless,  anxious  face,  and  the  two 
daughters  sat  pale  with  suspense,  their  eyes  riveted 
on  the  man  who  was  to  plead  for  the  life  of  their 
father. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury."  His  subdued  voice,  in 
which  a  slight  tremor  was  apparent,  made  deeper 
the  silence  of  the  hushed  court-room.  It  was  genuine 
emotion  that  came  thrilling  in  his  tones,  not  the  art 
of  the  pleader.  There  was  a  waiting  and  a  holding 
of  the  breath  for  his  next  words.  Turning  slowly, 
he  looked  at  the  old  man  and  at  the  two  white-faced 
women — his  daughters — and  stretching  out  a  hand 
:-d  them,  said,  his  voice  still  lower  than  at  iirst : 
"The  most  sorrowful  thing  I  have  seen  in  this  court- 
room since  my  admission  to  the  bar !" 

There  is  no  form  of  words  by  which  to  convey  any 
true  conception  of  the  pity  and  deeply  moving  pathos 
that  were  in  his  voice. 

"The   most  sorrowful   thing,  gentlemen  of  the 

jury!"  turning  partly  round  to  the  jury-box.     "I 

;  not  tell  you  what  it  means.     The  pitiful  story 


108  STRONG  DRINK; 

has  been  fully  rehearsed.  You  know  it  all.  There 
was  once  an  honorable  merchant,  a  tender  husband, 
a  loving  father.  >  The  city  was  proud  of  him.  His 
name  was  the  synonym  for  high  integrity  and  gener- 
ous feeling.  His  home  was  the  dwelling-place  of  all 
sweet  affections.  But  an  evil  eye  fell  upon  the  mer- 
chant-and  his  happy  home.  The  locust  and  the 
canker-worm  found  their  way  into  his  garden  of 
delight.  Leaf  withered  and  flower  faded,  and  sing- 
ing birds  departed.  Under  the  spell  of  this  evil  eye, 
the  generous  merchant  lost  his  wealth  and  his  fine 
sense  of  honor,  the  husband  his  tenderness  and  de- 
votion, the  father  his  love.  A  demon  had  taken 
possession  of  his  soul,  subsidizing  all  its  noble 
powers,  and  making  them  the  ministers  of  evil  in- 
stead of  good.  Shall  I  tell  you  the  name  of  this 
demon?" 

He  paused  for  a  few  moments.  Then  with  a  slow 
utterance  and  deep  impressiveness:  "  It  was  the 
demon  of  strong  drink!  You  all  know  him.  You 
cannot  walk  the  streets  of  this  great  city — this  Chris- 
tian city — without  feeling  his  hot  breath  strike  into 
your  faces  a  hundred  times  an  hour!  His  wretched 
victims  are  every  where  about  us;  and  the  homes  he 
has  ruined  may  be  counted  by  tens  of  thousands  all 
over  the  land.  Where  has  not  the  blight  of  his  foul 
breath  fallen  ?  Whose  home  is  free  from  the  curse 
of  his  presence? 

"Look!"  He  turned  to  the  prisoner  and  his 
daughters.  "All  that  the  demon  has  left!  Ah,  gen- 


•All  that  the  Demon  has  left."— Page  108. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  109 

tlemen  !  he  is  a  pitiless  demon,  and  without  respect 
of  persons. 

"And  now  what  shall  I  say  for  my  poor,  unhappy 
client?  For  this  man  whom  the  devil  of  drink  has 
held  in  chains  for  these  many,  many  years,  and  made 
the  creature  of  his  infernal  will.  Who  wronged  and 
beggared  his  family — the  man,  or  the  devil  that  was 
in  him  ?  The  man  was  kind,  and  tender,  and  loving. 
The  man  cared  for  his  wife  and  his  children,  and 
would  have  given  his  very  life,  if  need  be,  for  tlu-ir 
y.  Years  of  unselfish  devotion  to  those  he  loved 
bear  him  witness.  You  have  heard  tke  testimony  of 
his  daughters;  and  I  think  your  eyes  must  still  re- 
main half-blinded  by  the  tears  with  which  their 
touching  story  filled  them.  No,  no!  It  was  not  the 
man  who  dealt  that  cruel  blow.  lie  would  never 
have  laid  on  the  dear  and  precious  head  of  his  faith- 
ful wife  a  stroke  as  light  as  that  of  a  feather's  fall. 
It  was  the  devil  who  did  it,  and  not  the  man.  The 
devil  of  drink. 

leincn!  You  cannot  find  the  man 
guilty  of  murder.  lie  was  only  a  passive  instru- 
ment, with  no  more  responsibility  for  crime  than  the 
club  with  which  a  ruffian  fells  aciti/.en,  or  the  pistol 
with  which  an  a^sas^in  does  his  fatal  work.  It  was 
tin- devil  who  did  it.  Ah!  if  the  law  could  only 
rearh  this  devil  !" 

The  jury  retired  on  the  conclusion  of  Granger's 
plea,  and  were  not  out  for  half  an  hour.  The  evi- 
dence had  been  very  direct  an  1  clear.  The  pri-oner 


STRONG  DRINK; 

had  developed  in  the  past  year  an  irritable  and 
lignant  spirit,  and  would  grow  violent  and  threaten- 
ing when  his  wife  refused  him  money.  It  was 
proved  that  he  had  struck  her  several  times,  and 
that  she  had  once  carried  the  marks  of  a  blow  in 
her  face  for  many  weeks.  In  the  evidence  bearing 
on  the  cause  of  her  death,  it  was  shown  that  her 
husband  had  been  wrought  into  a  paroxysm  of 
insane  anger  by  her  refusal  to  give  him  money,  and 
that  in  his  blind  passion  he  had  knocked  her  down. 
The  blow  was  a  violent  one.  When  her  daughters, 
who  had  heard  the  heavy  fall  of  her  body,  reached 
the  room  and  attempted  to  lift  her  from  the  floor, 
she  was  dead. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  the  jury  came  in 
with  a-  verdict  of  guilty  of  murder  in  the  second 
degree,  and  a  recommendation  to  mercy.  Granger 
had  remained  in  the  court-room  while  the  jury  was 
out,  taking  part  in  another  case  that  came  up  for 
trial.  I  saw  from  his  manner  that  a  strong  impres- 
sion, from  which  he  had  not  been  able  to  break  free, 
had  been  left  on  his  mind  by  the  incidents  of  the 
trial  just  closed.  The  two  daughters  of  the  prisoner 
remained  in  the  court-room,  waiting  for  the  verdict 
in  their  father's  case.  More  than  once  I  noticed 
Granger's  eyes  resting  upon  them  with  a  pitiful, 
almost  sad  expression.  Was  he  thinking  of  his  own 
daughter  and  their  mother,  and  of  the  demon  that 
might  desolate  their  home  and  drag  them  down  to 
a  fate  like  this  ? 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

When  the  verdict  came,  and  the  wretched  pris- 
oner was  removed,  under  a  sentence  of  three  years' 
incarceration  in  the  penitentiary,  I  saw  Mr.  Granger 
go  out  with  the  two  daughters,  who  moved  through 
tin;  crowd  with  bent  heads  and  slow,  uncertain  steps. 
What  a  heartache  the  sight  gave  me !  As  I  reached 
the  street,  I  observed  him  enter  a  carriage  with  them 
and  drive  away.  I  was  touched  by  his  considerate 
and  kindness. 

"Ah,"  I  said  to  myself,  "if  he  will  but  take  this 
awful  lesson  to  heart,  and  cast  out  once  and  forever 
that  devil  of  drink  to  which  he  made,  a  little  while 
ago,  such  an  eloquent  and  telling  reference." 

I  felt  a  strong  hope  that  this  would  be  so.  That 
the  incidents  of  this  trial,  and  his  absorption  into  it 
as  counsel,  would  make  so  deep  an  impression  on 
( i  ranger  as  to  cause  him  to  start  back  in  alarm  from 
the  brink  of  the  precipice  on  which  he  was  stand- 
ing, and  over  which  he  might  at  any  moment 
plunge.  That  he  had  been  strongly  moved  was  very 
evident.  It  was  not  possible  for  him  to  look  on  the 
-r<l  and  ruined  family  of  the  old  merchant,  or 
uti •mphite  the  awful  tragedy  which  had  been 
enaete<l,  without  a  shudder  at  the  thought  of  such  a 
catastrophe  reaching  his  own  home.  He  was  dally- 
ing with  the  devil  of  drink,  who  might  at  any  mo- 
ment bind  him  hand  and  foot,  as  he  had  once  before 
bound  him,  ami  make  him  a^ain  the  creature  of  his 
will. 

It  was  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  two 


STRONG  DRINK; 

days  after  the  trial,  that  I  was  informed  by  a  ser- 
vant that  a  lady  was  in  the  parlor  and  wished  to  see 
me.  She  had  not  given  her  name.  On  going  down 
J  was  met  by  Mrs.  Granger.  I  saw  the  worst  at  a 
single  glance.  It  was  written,  alas !  too  plainly  in 
her  face. 

"  I  would  like  to  have  some  talk  with  you,  Mr. 
Lyon,"  she  said.  Her  voice  was  low  and  steady ; 
but  I  could  detect  an  under  thrill  of  feeling  held 
down  by  a  strong  effort. 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  service,"  I  replied,  using 
the  first  form  of  speech  that  came  into  my  mind. 
"And  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,  command  me 
freely." 

"  You  know  about  my  husband."  The  firmness 
went  out  of  her  voice. 

"  What  about  him  ?"  I  had  neither  seen  him  nor 
heard  anything  in  regard  to  him  since  the  day  of 
the  trial. 

"  Haven't  you  heard  ?" 

"  Heard  what,  Mrs.  Granger  ?" 

"  That  he  has — "  She  could  not  finish  the  sen- 
tence ;  her  voice  breaking  in  a  sob,  that  was  followed 
by  a  low,  shivering  cry. 

"  I  am  pained  beyond  measure  to  hear  of  this," 
said  I.  "  How  long  has  it  been  ?" 

"It  has  been  coming  on  him  for  two  or  three 
months  past,  and  I've  been  in  awful  dread.  Little 
by  little,  day  by  day,  his  old  appetite  has  gained 
strength.  What  the  end  must  be,  I  knew  too  well." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 


I  saw  him  in  court  on  the  day  of  that  murder 


trial.     He  was  all  right  then. 


"He  has  never  been  right  since.     It  was  late  in 
the  evening  before  he  came  home.     His  condition  I 
not  describe."     Tears,  in  large  drops,  were  fall- 


ing over  her  face. 

"Has  he  been  to  his  office  since?" 

"  I  think  not,"  was  answered.  "  He  goes  out  in 
tho  morning,  and  does  not  return  until  late  at  night. 
If  I  ask  him  a  question,  or  venture  a  word  of  remon- 
strance, he  gets  angry.  Oh!  sir;  this  must  not  go 
on.  I  am  helpless.  He  will  hear  nothing  and  bear 
IK  ttliing  from  me.  It  was  not  so  once.  But  you  are 
his  friend,  Mr.  Lyon.  He  has  great  respect  for  you; 
and  I  know  of  no  one  who  has  more  influence  over 
him." 

"Any  and  everything  in  my  power  shall  be  done," 
I  replied.  "  My  regret  is  tliat  I  did  not  know  of 
this  earlier."  I  let  more  of  hope  and  encouragement 
L->  into  my  voice  than  I  really  felt. 

"  Oh  !  sir.  If  you  will  only  do  your  best  for  him." 
The  poor  wife  looked  at  me  with  a  pleading  face. 

"  Is  he  at  home  now  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  no,  no.  I  haven't  seen  him  since  morning, 
and  it  may  be  after  midnight  before  he  returns. 
Oh  !  isn't  it  dreadful,  dreadful,  Mr.  Lyon,  the  way 
this  fearful  appetite  takes  hold  of  a  man  !  I  thought, 
win  -n  he  told  me  about  that  poor,  old,  broken-down 
t,  who,  in  a  fit  of  drunken  insanity,  had 
his  wife,  and  whom  he  had  to  defend  on  a 
8 


STRONG  DRINK; 

charge  of  murder,  that  he  would  take  the  terrible 
lesson  to  heart.  The  case  had  drawn  largely  on  his 
sympathies,  and  his  pity  was  great  for  the  daughters 
who  were  to  appear  in  court  and  give  evidence  that 
might  send  their  father  to  the  gallows.  I  have 
rarely  known  a  case  to  affect  him  so  much.  And  to 
think,  Mr.  Lyon,  that  he  should  go  from  this  trial, 
with  all  its  warning  incidents  fresh  in  his  mind, 
and  give  himself  into  the  power  of  the  very  agency 
which  had  wrought  so  fearful  a  ruin  that  the  very 
sight  of  it  sent  a  shudder  through  his  soul !  There 
is  something  awful  and  mysterious  in  all  this,  sir  I 
It  passes  my  comprehension." 

"  And  not  yours  only,  ma'am.  It  is  one  of  the 
dark  problems  men  find  it  difficult  to  explain.  Into 
all  hurtful  and  disorderly  things,  evil  forces  seem  to 
flow  with  an  intenser  life  than  into  things  innocent 
and  orderly.  There  is  violence,  aggression,  destruc- 
tion or  slavery  in  every  evil  agency.  And  it  is 
never  satisfied  under  any  limitation ;  it  must  have 
complete  mastery,  or  work  complete  ruin." 

"A  terrible  thought !"  Mrs.  Granger  shivered  as 
she  spoke. 

"  Will  you  try  to  find  him  to-night  ?"  she  asked, 
a  moment  afterwards. 

"  Yes.     I  will  go  in  search  of  him  at  once." 

She  arose  to  depart. 

"Wait  for  a  moment;  I  will  see  you  home 
first." 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Lyon.     I'm  not  afraid.     Don't  lose 


Tin:  crii$E  AXD  THE  CURE. 


115 


an  instant.     I  want  my  husband  found  as  soon  as 
possible." 

And  she  went  quickly  from  the  room,  passing  into 
the  street  before  I  could  make  another  effort  to  de- 
tain her. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

I'  WAS  not  successful  in  my  search  for  Mr.  Gran- 
ger, though  I  visited  many  of  the  principal 
saloons,  and  met  with  several  persons  who  knew 
him;  but  no  one  whom  I  questioned  had  seen  him 
during  the  night.  It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  when 
I  gave  up  the  search.  I  was  debating  with  myself 
whether  to  return  to  my  own  residence  or  to  go,  even 
at  this  late  hour,  and  ascertain  whether  he  were  at 
home  or  not,  when,  on  passing  a  small  court  in  which 
a  tavern  was  located,  a  sudden  sound  of  angry  voices 
struck  my  ears.  As  I  paused  I  saw  a  man  thrust  out 
of  this  tavern  with  violence.  He  fell  with  a  dull, 
heavy  sound  on  the  pavement;  and  was  kicked  as  he 
fell.  The  door  shut  in  an  instant  afterwards,  and  the 
man  was  left  to  all  appearance  unconscious  or  dead. 
I  found  a  policeman  in  the  next  block,  and  after 
giving  information  as  to  what  I  had  seen,  was  turn- 
ing to  leave  him,  when  he  detained  me,  saying  that 
if  the  man  had  received  any  serious  injuries  I  might 
be  wanted  as  a  witness.  I  took  out  a  card,  and  writ- 
ing my  address  on  it,  asked  if  that  were  sufficient. 
He  said  yes.  I  had  gone  from  him  for  only  a  few 
paces  when  the  possibility  that  the  man  I  had  seen 
might  be  Granger  flashed  through  my  mind,  arrest- 
116 


'He  fell  with  a  dull,  heavy  sound  0:1  tin-  pa vr-meni.  and  was  kicked  us 
he  Ml."— Page  lie. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  H7 

ing  my  steps,  and  causing  me  to  turn  about  and  hurry 
baek  to  the  scene  of  the  outrage  of  which  I  had  been 
:or.  The  policeman  was  trying  to  raise  the 
man  from  the  ground;  but  the  latter  was  either  so 
stupified  by  drink,  or  so  stunned  by  his  fall  on  the 
]  .aveinent,  as  to  be  unconscious  of  any  effort  to  arouse 
him.  What  was  my  pain  and  horror  to  see,  as  the 
turned  to  the  light,  the  features  of  Alexander 
(1  ranger.  There  was  a  great  bruise  on  one  of  his 
temples  from  which  drops  of  blood  were  creeping 
out ;  and  his  mouth  was  swollen  as  from  a  blow,  and 
bleeding. 

By  this  time  two  or  three  men  had  come  out  of  the 
saloon ;  and  I  noticed  that  one  of  them,  on  seeing 
the  }M>lieeman,  dropped  quietly  from  the  court  and 
disappeared  around  the  corner.  The  others  assisted 
to  bear  the  unconscious  man  into  the  tavern.  It  was 
a  low,  vile  place;  and  the  keeper  a  vicious-looking 
fellow,  in  whose  eyes  you  saw  the  cruel  instincts  of  a 
wild  beast.  He  it  was,  as  we  learned,  who  had  thrust 
(i  ranger  out;  but  he  denied  having  kicked  him  as 
11.  The  cause  for  this  violence  was  a  drunken 
dispute.  An  argument  about  something  had  arisen, 
and  the  brutal  logic  of  the  bully  had  been  used 
ji gainst  the  lawyer,  who  was  too  much  under  the 
power  of  drink  for  prudent  self-restraint.  His  words 
had  been  answered  by  blows;  and  the  blows  had 
been  very  hard. 

A  physieian  was  sent  for,  but  before  his  arrival, 
(Jrunger  had  partially  regained  his  consciousness. 


STRONG  DRINK; 

An  examination  of  the  wound  on  his  head  showed 
nothing  very  serious.  His  mouth,  however,  had  be- 
come dreadfully  swollen  ;  and  the  upper  lip  exhibited 
so  bad  a  cut  that  it  had  to  be  closed  with  a  few 
stitches  and  bands  of  adhesive  plaster. 

"  There's  a  very  sharp  pain  just  here,  doctor,"  said 
Granger,  after  the  lip  had  been  dressed,  placing  his 
hand  to  his  side  as  he  spoke.  "  I  wish  you'd  see 
what  it  means.  There's  something  wrong,  I'm 
afraid." 

"  Wrong !  I  should  think  there  was,"  replied  the 
doctor,  as  soon  as  he  had  made  an  examination. 
"  Here's  a  rib  broken !" 

A  groan  escaped  the  lips  of  the  suffering  man. 
Increasing  pain  was  lifting  him  out  of  his  drunken 
stupor. 

"  He  had  better  be  taken  home  at  once,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  I  cannot  attempt  to  set  the  broken  bone 
here." 

"  Oh,  no.  Don't  take  me  home !"  Granger  an- 
swered, quickly.  "  The  station-house.  Anywhere. 
But  not  home."  His  countenance  was  strongly  agi- 
tated. 

"  To  my  house,  then,"  I  said. 

"  No !  no !  no !  It's  considerate  of  you,  Mr.  Lyon, 
but  I  will  not  be  taken  into  any  gentleman's  house 
while  in  this  condition.  Why  can't  the  bone  be  set 
here?" 

"  For  reasons  I  will  not  attempt  to  explain,"  said 
the  doctor,  speaking  with  decision.  "  I  think,  sir," 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CL'RE. 

hddzeBBfflg  me,  "  that  you  had  better  order  a  carnage 
ami  have  him  removed  to  his  own  house.  I  will 
accompany  you,  or  you  can  send  for  his  family  phy- 
sician. In  any  case,  take  him  home.  The  fracture 
Is,  I  fear,  a  bad  one,  and  will  require  careful  treat- 
ment." 

Another  groan  came  from  Granger's  lips.  "  If  I 
were  only  dead !"  he  ejaculated. 

A  carriage  was  sent  for.  While  waiting  for  it  to 
come,  Granger  sat  with  closed  eyes ;  his  face  now 
almost  deathly  pale,  and  with  beads  of  sweat  standing 
all  over  it.  lie  made  no  resistance  when  the  carriage 
arrived,  and  entered  it  in  silence,  accompanied  by  the 
>r,  a  policeman  and  myself. 

\\ «  were  some  ten  or  twelve  blocks  from  his  resi- 
dence, and  it  took  over  twenty  minutes  to  make  the 
nee,  as  the  driving  had  to  be  very  slow.  When 
\\r  ]i:id  come  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  his 
dwelling,  he  asked  to  have  the  carriage  stopped  for 
a  few  minutes  until  I  could  go  and  break  the  news. 

Leaving  the  carriage,  I  went  rapidly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  his  house.  A  light  was  burning  in  one  of  the 
upper  windows.  W hat  should  I  say  ?  How  should 
I  break  this  news  to  his  poor,  waiting  wife?  As  I 
near,  I  noticed  a  shadow  on  the  wall  of  the 
chamber  in  which  the  light  was  burning;  a  moving 
shadow  as  of  one  restlessly  walking  the  floor.  As 
the  sound  of  my  hurrying  feet  broke  the  silence  1 
;!ie  shadow  grow  still  for  a  moment,  and  then 
quickly  disappear.  I  had  scarcely  rung  the  bell  ere 


120  STEOXG  DRINK; 

the  door  was  drawn  swiftly  open,  and  Mrs.  Granger's 
pale,  almost  rigid  face  met  mine. 

"Mr.  Granger!  What  of  him?  Oh  !  Mr.  Lyon, 
have  you  found  him  ?"  She  had  caught  hold  of  me 
in  her  eagerness  and  suspense. 

"  Yes,  yes.     I  have  found  him,"  I  replied. 

"  But  where  is  he  ?  Why  didn't  he  come  home 
with  you?" 

"  He  is  coming.  He  will  be  here  in  a  little  while," 
I  said,  trying  to  speak  in  a  voice  that  would  allay 
her  excitement. 

"  In  a  little  while!  What's  the  matter,  Mr.  Lvon  ? 

•/ 

Don't  deceive  me !  Don't  keep  anything  back !  Am 
I  wanted?" 

I  felt  her  hand  close  on  my  arm  with  a  tight 
grip. 

"  No— no,  Mrs.  Granger.  You  are  frightened  for 
nothing.  You  are  not  wanted.  Your  husband  will 
be  home  in  a  few  minutes.  I  came  first  to  tell  you 
and  relieve  your  mind." 

At  this  moment  the  sound  of  approaching  wheels 
was  heard. 

"  Is  that  Mr.  Granger  ?"  she  asked,  her  face  as 
white  as  ashes. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

I  saw  that  the  whole  truth  had  not  occurred  to  her. 
She  stood  still,  waiting  until  the  slow-moving  carriage 
was  at  the  door,  and  not  stirring  until  she  saw  the 
policeman  step  first  to  the  pavement.  Then  there 
was  a  start  and  a  repressed  cry.  Next  came  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

r,  and  then,  with  the  help  of  the  policeman, 
( I  ranker  was  assisted  from  the  carriage.  It  was  too 
dark  for  his  wife  to  see  his  face  until  the  light  of  the 
entry-lamp  fell  upon  it  as  he  was  supported  up  the 
steps  to  the  door. 

She  did  not  faint,  nor  cry  out  in  wild  terror  as  she 
saw  that  bruised,  pain-stricken  face ;  but,  as  if  she 
had  received  a  blow,  staggered  back  a  step  or  two, 
but  quickly  recovered  herself,  coming  forward  and 
saying,  breathlessly,  and  in  a  hoarse  whisper: 
"  What  is  it?  What's  the  matter?" 

"  Nothing  very   serious,"    the  doctor  answered. 

Y  ur  husband  has  had  a  fall,  and  there's  a  rib 
broken.  But  he'll  be  all  right  in  a  short  time.  We 
£ct  him  up  to  his  own  room  with  as  little  delay 
ossible." 

In  a  moment  all  signs  of  agitation  disappeared. 

"  This  way,"  said  the  wife,  calmly,  moving  back 
along  the  hall,  and  then  going  lightly  up-stairs  and 
leading  the  way  to  the  chamber  in  front.  I  low 
tender  and  pitiful  she  was  in  every  word  and  act ; 
yet  with  no  sign  of  weakness.  Love  and  duty 
had  lifted  her  into  a  sphere  of  calm  self-posses- 
sion. 

I  wondered  as  I  observed  her  that  night,  moving 
about  with  a  quiet,  almost  cheerful  bearing,  acting  in 
concert  with  the  doctor,  ministering  to  her  husband, 
giving  and  taking  directions  with  the  coolness  and 
selt-jH>i>e  of  an  exj>erienced  nurse,  what  it  meant? 
I  ha  -ted  a  painful  scene,  with  outbursts  of 


122  STRONG  DRINK; 

uncontrollable  mental  anguish;  and  my  surprise  was, 
therefore,  the  greater  at  what  I  saw. 

It  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock  before  I  left 
Mr.  Granger.  By  this  time  the  broken  bone  had 
been  properly  set,  and  he  was  not  only  free  from 
pain  but  sleeping  quietly. 

I  did  not  see  him  for  several  days,  though  I  made 
frequent  inquiries,  and  learned  that  he  was  doing 
well.  A  brief  notice  of  the  assault  from  which  he 
had  suffered  found  its  way  into  the  newspapers, 
but  his  name  was  not  mentioned.  No  effort  was 
made  to  arrest  and  punish  his  assailant,  for  that 
would  have  been  to  make  his  own  disgrace  pub- 
lic. 

It  was  nearly  a  week  afterwards  that  I  received  a 
note,  asking  me  to  call  upon  him.  He  was  greatly 
changed,  and  looked  broken,  subdued  and  troubled. 
His  lip  was  still  considerably  swollen  and  very  sore. 
The  wound  had  not  healed  readily,  and  the  proba- 
bilities were  that  a  disfiguring  scar  would  be  left. 
He  held,  my  hand  tightly  for  some  moments  before 
speaking. 

"  I  want  to  have  another  talk  with  you,  Lyon," 
he  said,  his  voice  trembling  a  little.  "  I  shall  be 
out  again  soon,  and  then — "  He  stopped,  with  a 
strong  movement  of  feeling  in  his  face.  "  And  then? 
God  help  me,  Lyon !  Is  there  no  hope — no  escape — 
no  way  of  safety  ?" 

His  agitation  increased.  I  did  not  reply.  What 
could  I  say  ?  He  saw  the  doubt  in  my  face. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CTA'A        123 

"  There  must  be  help  somewhere.  Men  are  saved 
from  this  curse." 

"  A  man  may  be  saved  from  any  evil  if  he  will," 
I  replied.  "But  if  he  will  not,  as  I  have  said  to 
you  many  times,  even  God  cannot  save  him.  If  you 
had  kept  away  from  the  enemy's  ground,  he  could 
never  have  enslaved  you  again.  You  were  free  to 
pass  over  or  to  remain  within  the  lines  of  safety, 
your  own  will  you  passed  over." 

"  Poor,  weak  fool !"  he  murmured,  bitterly.  "  Poor, 
silly  moth,  Hying  into  the  candle!" 

"  Let  the  days  of  weakness  and  folly  pass  forever. 
Let  there  be  no  more  parleyings  with  the  enemy — 
no  more  venturing  upon  his  domain." 

lie  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"Of  what  value  are  all  my  good  resolutions? 
Will  they  save  me  in  the  future  any  more  than  they 
saved  me  in  the  past?  Are  they  stronger  to- 
day than  they  were  last  year  or  the  year  before? 
There  must  be  something  more,  Mr.  Lyon.  Some- 
thing stronger  to  lean  on,  or  I  am  lostJ" 

"  Lean  on  God,"  I  answered.  "  Look  to  Him." 

There  was  no  brightening  of  his  face. 

"God  helps  those  who  try  to  get  free  from  the 
MM  that  d«>tli  so  easily  beset  them." 

"  1  >oes  II,  .'  Haven't  I  tried  ?  Doesn't  He  know 
that  1  have  tried?  But  where  is  the  help?" 

"  It  cannot  come  to  you  except  in  your  reasserted 
manhood  ;  and  it  will  come  if  you  stand  fast  in  that 
manhood.  God's  strength  will  be  your  strength." 


124  STRONG  DRINK; 

He  sighed  heavily. 

"  Mr.  Gross  was  here  yesterday,  and  I  had  a  long 
talk  with  him  about  the  New  York  Asylum  at  Bing- 
hampton.  He  thinks  very  favorably  of  the  course 
pursued  there,  and  spoke  of  several  cases  where 
patients  have  come  home  radically  cured.  He 
promised  to  send  me  the  last  report  of  the  superin- 
tendent. If  I  thought  any  good  would  come  of  it, 
I'd  drop  business  and  everything  else  and  go  under 
treatment  there." 

I  said  nothing  to  discourage  the  idea.  There 
might  be  influences  brought  to  bear  upon  him  at 
this  institution  which  would  help  to  give  him 
the  mastery  over  himself.  I  could  not  tell. 

At  a  subsequent  visit,  I  found  that  the  promised 
report  had  come  into  his  hands,  and  that  his  mind 
was  fully  made  up  to  leave  for  Binghampton  as  soon 
as  he  was  able  to  travel,  and  spend  as  long  a  time 
there  as  the  resident  physician  and  superintendent 
thought  his  case  required. 

"  It  is  a  disease,"  he  said,  as  we  talked  the  matter 
over;  "and  as  clearly  defined  as  any  other  disease; 
and,  moreover,  as  subject  to  remedial  agencies.  The 
best  minds  in  the  medical  profession  have  given  to 
this  disease  a  most  careful  study,  and  it  is  known  what 
organs  are  affected  by  it,  and  the  exact  character  of 
the  affection.  Its  treatment  is  based  on  true  scien- 
tific and  pathological  principles,  and  so  conducted  as 
to  give  the  patient  a  just  knowledge  of  the  means 
whereby  he  may  retain  his  health  after  a  cure  has 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

made.  He  is  not  left  to  grope  in  the  dark, 
every  moment  in  danger  of  falling  over  some  unseen 
stumbling-block  which  may  have  been  cast  hi  his 
way." 

I  did  not  share  in  the  new  hope  which  had  come 
to  Mr.  (J ranger,  but  was  careful  not  to  offer  a  word 
of  discouragement.  There  might,  as  I  have  said,  be 
influences  brought  to  bear  upon  him  at  the  asylum 
which  would  prove  lasting.  It  was  worth  the  trial 
at  least. 

And  the  trial  was  made.  Four  montlis  were  spent 
by  Mr.  Granger  at  the  institution  in  Binghampton, 
where  the  treatment  for  intemperance  as  a  disease 
was  at  the  time  up  to  the  highest  skill  and  intelli- 
gence of  the  medical  profession.  The  treatment 
w;is  moral  as  well  as  hygienic  and  sanatory.  The 
first  thing  gained  for  the  patient  was  his  removal 
from  the  tainted  atmosphere  of  common  society,  in 
which  are  perpetually  floating  the  germs  of  the  dis- 
from  which  he  was  suffering.  This  was  a  most 
important  gain,  for  it  took  him  out  of  the  region  of 
exciting  causes.  His  next  gain  was  in  the  sanatory 
cire  and  treatment  given  by  the  institution  to  its 
patients,  through  which  a  steady  return  to  sound 
physical  health  was  secured.  Supplementing  this 
was  a  thoroughly  intelligent  hygienic  system,  through 
which  the  health  so  regained  was  steadily  improved 
and  strengthened. 

The  moral  and  religious  influences  under  whii-li 
he  came  \\ero  uf  the  most  salutary  kind.  Free  from. 


126  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  morbid  action  of  alcohol  on  the  brain,  his  intel- 
lect and  moral  perceptions  were  clear  once  more.  He 
could  see  and  feel  with  a  new  intensity  the  obliga- 
tions that  were  resting  upon  him  as  a  man,  and  the 
awful  responsibility  to  which  he  must  be  held  if  he 
did  not  keep  them.  There  was  a  quickening  of  his 
higher,  purer  and  better  feelings — of  honor,  and  a 
sense  of  duty — of  all  the  tender  social  affections. 
Love  for  his  wife  and  children,  and  shame  and 
sorrow  for  the  wrong  and  suffering  he  had  brought 
upon  them,  grew  deeper  and  deeper  as  the  cure  went 
on.  He  wrote  to  me  several  times  while  in  the  in- 
stitution, and  his  letters  were  of  the  most  satisfactory 
character.  He  had  gained  wonderfully  in  health, 
and  felt,  he  said,  no  desire  for  alcohol  whatever,  and 
was  sure  that  he  should  never  touch  it  again. 

In  the  first  letter  that  I  received  from  him,  he 
spoke  of  the  incidents  attendant  on  his  arrival  at 
the  institution.  I  give  a  portion  of  this  letter : 

"  On  the  second  day,"  he  wrote,  "  as  I  was  sitting 
by  myself,  feeling  strange  and  ill  at  ease,  a  little,  old 
man,  with  a  large  head,  clear  blue  eyes,  and  a  kind, 
cheery  face,  came  into  the  parlor,  and  seeing  me, 
bowed  with  a  courtly  air,  and  said  a  pleasant '  Good 
morning.'  My  response  was  somewhat  cold  and 
distant,  for  I  was  greatly  depressed  in  spirits,  and 
could  not  rally  myself  on  the  instant.  He  passed 
through,  and  as  he  left  the  room  I  felt  my  heart 
going  out,  as  it  were,  after  him.  In  about  ten  min- 
utes he  came  back,  and,  drawing  a  chair,  sat  down 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CUKE. 

l»y  mo,  with  the  remark,  'This  is  one  of  our  perfect 
1  lave  you  noticed  the  peculiar  softness  of  the 
>ky  ?'  I  tried  to  rouse  myself  to  meet,  in  a  becom- 
ing way,  his  kind  advances ;  but  did  it,  I  fear, 
almost  ungraciously.  It  was  only  a  little  while, 
however,  before  the  frank  and  genial  warmth  of  his 
manner  had  completely  won  me,  and  I  found  my- 
self talking  with  him  as  with  a  pleasant  friend. 
Almost  before  I  knew  it,  he  had  led  me  to  speak  of 
myself,  and  of  my  past  life.  There  was  about  him 
something  that  inspired  confidence.  I  felt  that  no 
idle  sentiment  of  curiosity,  but  a  genuine  interest 
in  my  welfare,  had  drawn  him  towards  me,  and  that 
as  seeking  to  gain  my  friendly  feelings,  that 
he  illicit  do  me  good.  He  had  not  spoken  half  a 
dozen  sentences  before  I  recognized  in  him  a  man 
of  culture,  and  saw  in  his  bearing  the  true  grace  of 
a  courtly  gentleman.  It  was  not  long  before  we 
were  walking  the  floor  of  the  parlor,  his  arm  drawn 
within  that  of  mine,  deeply  engaged  in  a  conversa- 
tion, which  we  kept  up  for  over  an  hour.  At  its 
,  I  felt  that  I  had  found  a  new  friend,  as  it  has 
proved,  for  this  quiet,  intelligent,  refined  and  gen- 
tlemanly old  man  is  none  other  than  our  chaplain." 
Again  he  wrote :  "  In  Dr.  Bush,  our  chaplain, 
about  whom  I  spoke  in  one  of  my  letters,  we  have 
a  man  of  rare  fitness  for  the  office  he  holds  in  this 
institution.  I  never  pass  an  hour  with  him  without 
feeling  Stronger  for  the  interview.  He  said  to  me, 
a  day  or  two  ago, '  In  God  and  good  health  lie  your 


128  STRONG  DRINK; 

only  help  and  sure  dependence.  You  must  keep 
the  body  sound,  avoid  all  dangers,  and  take  no  risks. 
With  regular  living,  and  healthy  surroundings,  and 
a  mind  full  of  faith  and  hope  in  spiritual  realities, 
this  sad  disorder,  with  which  you  have  been  afflicted, 
will,  in  time,  die  out.'  In  his  unobtrusive  and  wise 
way,  he  moves  about  among  the  patients,  holding 
them  in  conversation  by  such  themes  as  touch  their 
tastes  and  habits  of  thinking  most  readily ;  but  al- 
ways at  some  point  turning  their  thoughts  to  spir- 
itual things,  and  pointing  them  to  Christ  as  their 
surest  refuge.  He  has  great  influence  over  all  who 
are  here,  and  there  are  some  who  appear  to  rest  on, 
and  cling  to  him  as  if  all  the  strength  they  were 
receiving  actually  came  through  his  agency.  The 
more  I  see  and  know  of  him,  and  the  more  I  talk 
with  him,  the  stronger  grows  my  conviction,  that 
the  saving  power  of  the  work  that  is  being  done 
here  is  largely  due  to  the  influence  this  good  man 
has  with  the  inmates." 

In  a  letter  written  nearly  two  months  after  he 
entered  the  asylum,  Mr.  Granger  said : 

"  I  had  a  long  talk  with  our  chaplain  yesterday, 
and  he  related  many  deeply  interesting  incidents 
connected  with  his  office  in  the  institution.  He  has 
a  large  correspondence,  I  find,  with  persons  who 
have  been  patients  here;  and  his  influence  witK 
many  of  them  is  still  very  strong.  He  encourages 
them  to  write  to  him  freely,  and  to  tell  him  about 
their  surroundings  and  peculiar  trials  and  tempta- 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CUKE.  129 

tion<,  in  order  that  he  may  send  helpful  advice  and 

-•"Missel,  if  there  should  be  need  therefor.     I 

noti.v  that  while  he  speaks  minutely  of  cases,  he 

ran-ly  mentions  names.     But  I  refer  to  him  now 

:ise  of  some  things  which  he  said  that  reminded 
me  of  a  conversation  I  had  with  you.  The  line  of 
thought  he  pursued  was  very  similar  to  yours, 
though  some  of  his  premises  and  conclusions  were 
dilll-rent.  'All  of  our  power  to  resist  temptation 
ami  to  live  true  and  orderly  lives/  he  said,  'comes 
from  God.  The  gift  of  strength  is  from  above; 
the  will  to  use  it  lies  within  ourselves.  If  we  will 
not  u-»-  this  strength,  God  cannot  help  us  in  times 
of  difficulty,  nor  save  us  in  times  of  danger.  But, 
into  our  right  endeavor,  if  it  be  resolutely  made, 
will  come  a  divine  power  that  shall  enable  us  to 

1  as  a  rock,  though  the  floods  of  temptation 
n<-ver  so  strongly  against  us.  And  here,  my 
fririid,'  he  added,  laying  his  hand  upon  me,  and 
speaking  with  great  earnestness,  '  let  me  impress 
upon  you  this  thought,  that  it  is  only  in  the  main- 
tenance of  true  order  in  our  natural  and  physical 
that  we  come  into  such  a  relation  to  spiritual 
laws  and  forces  that  they  can  protect  and  save  us. 
A  true  spiritual  life  cannot  be  established  in  any 

90  long  as  his  natural  life  remains  in  disorder. 
If  you  want  God's  help  in  the  new  life  you  are  now 
living,  you  must,  while  asking  spiritual  aid,  do  your 
part  in  the  work  of  establishing  .sound  physical 
health.  1 'raving  will  avail  nothing  if  you  do  not 
B 


130  STRONG  DRINK; 

tins  also.  When  you  go  away  from  here  you  must 
make  it  a  religious  duty  to  avoid  over-strain  in  your 
work,  and  the  consequent  nervous  exhaustion  that 
will  surely  follow.  All  the  laws  of  physical  and 
moral  health  must  be  strictly  observed;  and  you 
must  be  especially  watchful  lest  you  get  over,  una- 
ware, upon  the  enemy's  ground.  If  duty  calls  you 
there,  go  with  armor  and  sword,  and  you  will  find 
no  armor  so  impenetrable,  and  no  sword  so  keen  and 
effective,  as  the  armor  of  God's  Holy  Word,  and 
the  truths  that  lie  sheathed  in  its  precious  sentences. 
yse  these  when  the  tempter  assaults  you,  and  he 
will  turn  and  flee.'  You  can  see  how  good  and 
helpful  all  this  is.  '  Right  thinking  is  one  of  the 
surest  ways  to  right  acting,'  we  often  hear  him  say. 
'  If  men  would  go  right,  they  must  know  right,'  is 
another  of  his  apt  sentences.  And  he  never  tires 
in  his  efforts  to  supplement  the  medical,  social,  san- 
atory and  moral  agencies  of  cure  that  are  so  effect- 
ive in  many  cases  under  treatment  here,  with  the 
soundest  common  sense  advice,  and  the  tenderest, 
most  heart-searching  and  deeply  solemn  ministra- 
tions of  a  devoted  spiritual  friend  and  teacher." 

At  the  end  of  three  months,  Granger  considered 
his  cure  so  complete  that  he  wished  to  return  home 
and  resume  the  practice  of  his  profession,  which  was 
suffering  greatly  on  account  of  his  absence.  In  this 
he  was  opposed  by  the  superintendent,  who  urged 
him  to  remain  longer ;  in  fact,  not  to  think  of  leav- 
ing the  institution  until  he  had  remained  there  for 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

at  I« ';ist  six  months.  The  superintendent  understood 
his  case  better  than  he  understood  it  himself,  and 
knew  that  he  was  very  far  from  being  cured.  Treat- 
in  ir  intemperance  as  a  disease  of  the  physical  organ- 
ism, manifesting  itself  in  a  species  of  moral  insanity, 
and  understanding  enough  of  the  pathology  of 
drunkenness  to  know  that  it  wrought  changes  of 
condition  of  singular  permanency,  and  left  a  most 
remarkable  sensitiveness  to  exciting  causes,  he  un- 
derstood the  great  value  of  time  in  the  work  of 
strengthening  the  system,  so  that  it  might,  when 
exposed  to  assault,  be  able  to  resist  the  encroach- 
ments of  disease.  But  he  was  not  able  to  induce 
Mr.  Granger  to  remain  at  the  institution  for  a  longer 
time  than  four  montns. 

I  met  him  soon  after  his  return  home.  Four 
montlis  under  the  new  influences  to  which  he  had 
lx  en  subjected  had  wrought  in  him  a  marked 
change.  I  had  never  seen  him  in  better  physical 
health.  His  eyes  were  strong  and  bright,  his  com- 
plexion clear,  his  muscles  round  and  tense.  You 
saw  that  life,  mental  and  physical,  had  gained  a 
higher  strength. 

"I'm  a  new  man,  Lyon,"  said  he,  confidently,  as 
he  grasped  my  hand  at  our  first  meeting.  "A  new 
man,"  he  repeated,  "morally,  mentally  and  physi- 
cally. The  lost  has  been  found ;  the  sick  man  re- 
stored to  health  ;  the  dead  is  alive  again." 

There  was  a  certain  uverglow  of  enthusiasm  about 
him  to  which  I  could  not  heartily  respond.  lie 


132  STRONG  DRINK; 

observed  this,  saying :  "  Wait  and  see,  my  friend. 
This  isn't  the  old,  sick,  miserable  body  that  I  took 
away,  with  its  relaxed  pores  standing  open  to  drink  in 
every  disease  that  floated  in  the  air.  Here  is  healthy 
blood,  and  firm  flesh,  and  high  vital  action;  and 
what  is  more,  reason  and  will  have  regained  strength 
and  dominion.  I  have  found  my  lost  manhood." 

"And  may  God  give  you  the  strength  to  keep  it," 
I  made  answer,  speaking  from  a  conviction  which  I 
could  not  repress,  that  only  in  God's  help  was  there 
any  sure  hope  for  this  man. 

"  He  has  given  it  already,"  he  replied.  "And  I 
am  taking  it  and  using  it.  He  is  always  giving ; 
and  we  faint  and  fall  by  the  way  only  because  we 
do  not  take  of  the  measure  we  need.  This  is  your 
doctrine,  I  believe,  Mr.  Lyon." 

"  Yes,"  I  returned,  but  not  with  any  heartiness  of 
manner. 

"  Not  skeptical  here,  I  trust,"  said  Granger,  with 
a  slight  lifting  of  his  eyebrows. 

"  No.  All  our  strength  must  come  from  God.  In 
Him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  The 
only  question  is,  how  are  we  to  get  this  strength  ? 
And  I  will  confess  to  you,  Mr.  Granger,  that  my 
mind  is  not  so  well  settled  on  this  point  as  it  was  a 
year  or  two  ago.  I  had  great  faith  in  a  man's  wjll 
then.  It  is  weaker  now.  And,  if  I  must  say  it, 
out  of  your  experience  has  come  many  of  my  doubts 
and  questionings." 

'  Indeed."     A  shade  of  surprise  in  his  manner. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  C77.'/'.  133 

"You  remember  that  turning  over  of  a  new  leaf 
a  long  time  ago,  and  \vhat  Mr.  Stannard  said  to  you 
in  ivgard  to  the  writing  thereon?  About  the* I 
will  not/  and  '  By  the  help  of  God  ?' " 

"  Yes." 

"And  how  I  said  that  we  received  God's  help 
only  when  we  made  an  effort  to  do  the  right.  That 
His  strength  flowed  then  into  our  endeavor,  and 
only  then  ?" 

"  Yes ;  and  you  said  the  truth." 

"  But  you  did  not  find  it  so,  Mr.  Granger." 

A  deeper  shade  of  surprise  on  his  face.  "  I  did 
not  use  the  strength.  That  was  all." 

"Why  not?" 

"The  will  failed,  I  suppose." 

"Ah !  There  it  is.  The  will  to  take  the  strength 
was  lacking." 

"  Yes."  A  falling  away  from  its  firmness  in  his 
voice. 

"  I've  thought  a  great  deal  about  this  in  the  last 
few  months,  Granger,  and  I'm  afraid  there's  some 
error  in  my  reasoning  about  God's  ways  with  man. 
That  in  our  efforts  to  do  right,  or  resist  evil,  a  divine 
strength  sufficient  for  our  day  will  not  always  come. 
It  seems  to  me  that  it  ought  to  come ;  but  does  it 
come  ?  What  is  your  experience  ?" 

"  I  have  had  the  strength  to  resist,  as  you  know, 
and  have  stood  in  that  strength  for  long  periods  of 
time,"  he  answered. 

"  True ;  but  it  failed  at  last     Now  God's  power 


134  STRONG  DRINK; 

should  never  fail ;  and  I  have  a  conviction  that  it 
never  does  fail.  "What  then  ?" 

He  did  not  answer  me. 

"  There  is  one  sphere  of  safety  into  which  I  think 
it  will  be  wise  for  you  to  come,"  said  I. 

"  What  is  that?"  he  asked. 

"  The  sphere  of  the  church." 

There  was  no  warm  response  in  his  face. 

"  So  far  as  my  observation  goes,"  he  replied, 
"  church  people  are  no  better  than  others." 

"  More  the  shame  for  them,"  I  answered.  "  But  it 
is  possible  that  your  observation  in  this  direction 
has  been  limited." 

"  Well,  as  you  know,  I've  never  taken  much  to 
religion.  I'm  not  one  of  that  kind.  I  go  to  church 
with  my  wife  occasionally,  but  never  get  much  in- 
terested. Now  and  then  I  hear  a  sermon  that  sets  me 
to  thinking ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  I  find  it  dull  work." 

"  I  inferred,  from  some  things  said  in  your  letters, 
that  you  had  become  deeply  impressed  with  the 
value  and  necessity  of  divine  help,"  said  I.  "  Did 
not  Mr.  Bush,  the  chaplain  of  whom  you  spoke  so 
warmly,  urge  you  to  join  some  church,  and  to  come 
within  the  sphere  of  its  saving  influences  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  spoke  to  me  with  great  earnest- 
ness on  this  very  subject.  But  a  man  may  trust  in 
God,  even  though  he  be  not  a  church- member. 
Christianity  means  justice,  and  honor,  and  right 
living ;  and  I  find  as  much  of  this  outside  as  inside 
of  the  churches." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  135 

"  The  Church,"  I  replied,  "  has  been  established 
by  God.  It  is  His  kingdom  on  the  earth ;  and  its 
laws  are  divine  truths  revealed  to  us  in  Scripture. 
These  laws,  as  you  know,  are  very  pure,  and  based 
on  love  to  God  and  the  neighbor.  It  is  nothing 
against  the  Church  that  some  of  its  members  do 
not  comprehend  the  spirit  and  meaning  of  its  laws; 
nor  live  in  a  true  conformity  thereto ;  and  nothing 
against  its  power  to  protect  us  from  evil,  if  we  come 
within  the  sphere  of  its  influence." 

"  You  may  be  right  in  all  that,  Mr.  Lyon ;  are 
right,  no  doubt ;  and  I  intend  going  to  church  with 
my  family  more  regularly  than  heretofore." 

"  Do  so  by  all  means.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Mr. 
Stannard  only  last  week  on  this  very  subject  of 
church-going ;  and  one  or  two  things  that  he  said 
have  made  a  strong  impression  on  my  mind." 

"  .Mr.  Stannard  is  one  of  the  best  men  I  ever  knew. 
If  all  professing  Christians  squared  their  lives  by 
their  doctrines  as  he  does,  Christianity  would  mean 
something,"  remarked  Granger.  "  What  did  he  say?" 

"  If  for  no  other  reason,  he  said,  we  should  go 
to  church  to  hear  the  reading  of  the  Bible." 

"  We  may  read  the  Bible  at  home,  if  we  will," 
( 1  ranger  replied. 

"  True ;  if  we  will,"  I  returned. 

'  And,  then,"  he  rejoined,  "you  know  one  may 
read  the  Bible  every  day,  and  a  dozen  times  a  day 
for  that  matter,  and  it  will  do  him  no  good  unU 
obey  its  precepts." 


136  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  A  knowledge  of  the  law  must  go  before  obedi- 
ence. This  is  as  true  of  divine  as  of  human  laws. 
But  I  wish  to  bring  to  your  attention  one  or  two 
things  said  by  Mr.  Stannard  in  regard  to  the  power 
of  Holy  Scripture,  and  the  sphere  of  safety  into 
which  it  must  bring  every  one  who  receives  it  into 
his  thought  reverently,  and  lets  it  dwell  there.  They 
were  new  to  me.  Being  the  "Word  of  God,  the  pre- 
sence of  any  portion  thereof  in  the  thought,  must, 
he  said,  bring,  in  a  certain  sense,  God  within  us,  and 
consequently  nearer  with  His  divine  power  to  the 
enemies  of  our  souls  who  are  ever  seeking  to  gain 
dominion  over  us  ;  so  enabling  Him  to  fight  in  and 
for  us  by  the  power  of  His  Word." 

Granger  sat  reflecting  on  this  for  a  considerable 
time. 

"  If  that  be  so,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  there  is  a 
saving  power  in  the  Bible  beyond  what  I  had 
thought." 

"  And  a  use  in  going  to  church  beyond  what  you 
and  I  had  imagined." 

"Yes." 

"  For  the  reading  of  the  Bible  makes  up  a  portion 
of  the  services,  and  the  sphere  of  reverence  and 
attention  which  we  find  in  worshipping  assemblies 
adjusts  the  mind  to  hearing  and  opens  it  to  deeper 
impressions.  The  Word  gets  a  firmer  hold  upon 
us  and  remains  longer  with  us.  We  take  it 
away  in  our  memories;  and  when  in  temptation, 
can  bring  it  out  therefrom  as  a  weapon — the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  137 

| 

MY.  ml    of    the   Spirit — with   which    to   fight    our 
enemies. 

"  Mr.  Stannard  said,"  I  continued,  "  that  God's 
Holy  Word  is  sufficient  for  us  under  any  circum- 
stances of  temptation;  and  that  we  have  only  to 
resist  the  devil  as  our  Saviour  resisted  when  led  of 
him  into  the  wilderness  to  be  tempted,  and  he  will 
it  from  us." 

"  How  did  He  resist?"  asked  Mr.  Granger. 

"  By  the  utterance  of  truth  from  Scripture;  and 
the  j)ower  of  this  Divine  AVord  was  so  great  that  the 
devil  could  not  stand  before  it." 

"  Yc"s,  that  is  so.  '  It  is  written/  was  the  Lord's 
answer.  I  never  thought  of  its  meaning  before." 

"  In  the  very  way  that  strength  for  victory  came  to 
Him  as  1  It-  met  the  hosts  of  hell  on  the  plane  of  His 
i;i firm  human  nature,  will  it  come  to  us  and  give  us 
thf  victory  also,  said  Mr.  Stannard.  From  this  view 
of  the  case,  the  value  of  public  worship  is  evident, 
and  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Granger,  that  you  will  stand  safer 
within.tlum  without  the  sphere  of  the  church." 

"  You  may  be  right,"  he  answered.     "  Nay,  I  am 
sure  you  are  right.     I  must  see  Mr.  Stannard  and 
a  talk  with  him.     He  is  one  of  the  men  in 
whom  I  believe." 


CHAPTER  X. 

Ij^OR  awhile  Granger  went  regularly  to  church ; 
-»-  but  after  a  few  months  his  place  in  the  family 
pew  was  often  vacant. 

"  I  don't  see  you  at  church  as  much  as  usual,"  said 
I,  on  meeting  him  one  day. 

"  Well — no,"  he  replied,  speaking  with  some  hesi- 
tation of  manner,  "  and  I  don't  know  that  I've  any 
valid  excuse  for  staying  away.  But,  the  fact  is, 

Mr. is  so  intolerably  dull  and  prosy,  I  get  tired 

to  death.  He  doesn't  seem  to  think  at  all ;  but  just 
to  open  his  mouth  and  let  what  happens  to  be  in  his 
memory  come  out.  Old  stereotyped  forms  of  speech, 
and  sentenpes  that  mean  anything  or  nothing  as  you 
choose  to  interpret  them,  make  up  the  staple  of  his 
sermons.  You  don't  get  an  advanced  idea  from  him 
once  in  a  month." 

"  Go  somewhere  else.  To  hear  Mr. ,  for  in- 
stance. But  don't  stay  away  from  church." 

"  I've  been  to  hear  Mr. a  number  of  times. 

But  one  tires  of  mere  picture-painting,  though  the 
artist  have  rare  skill  in  his  line.  He  says  many 
beautiful  things  in  an  eloquent  way ;  and  so  do  the 
orators  and  the  poets.  But  a  poor,  tired  and  tempted 
soul  will  get  little  help  from  his  preaching.  It  is 
138 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  139 

pleasing  and  popular ;  but  aft  IT  that  is  said,  about  all 

1.     Ah,  my  friend!"  his  brows  drew  closely 

<T,  and  his  voice  fell  to  a  serious  tone,  "your 

churches  and  your  preaching  are  all  well  enough  for 

-y-going,  good  sort  of  people,  with  a  kind  of 
natural  heavenward  drift ;  but  they  don't  do  much  in 
the  way  of  getting  hold  of  us  restless,  challenging, 
hardened  fellows,  who  want  to  know  about  the  reason 
of  things ;  and  who,  unhappily,  are  in  the  drag  of  a 
current  that  is  bearing  us  down,  down,  down,  it  may 
In-,  to  eternal  ruin !" 

There  came  a  stern,  almost  angry  expression  into 
his  face. 

'  You  mustn't  feel  in  that  way  Granger.  It  isn't 
good.  The  preachers  may  not  be  all  we  could  wish ; 
but  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  sincere  men,  and  in 
the  effort  to  do  the  best  they  can  for  the  salvation  of 
sou 

"Oh,  yes.  No  doubt  of  it  But  it  rarely  happens 
that  1  find  one  who  can  feed  my  hunger." 

Was  it  his  own  fault  or  the  fault  of  the  preacher? 
Was  he  not  hungering  again  for  the  flesh-pots  of 

.ypt,  and  loathing  the  manna  and  the  quails?  I 
had  my  fears.  What  had  been  done  for  him  during 
his  four  months  at  the  asylum  ?  It  was  a  question  of 
UK  mientous  interest.  Had  there  been  a  cure,  or  only 
a  temporary  suspension  of  diseased  action?  Did  he 
not  stand  in  as  much  danger  to-day  as  before  he 
placed  himself  under  treatment?  Was  not  his  fall 

/in  only  a  matter  of  time? 


140  STRONG  DRINK; 

These  questions  pressed  themselves  on  my  mind 
and  gave  me  much  concern.  Think  as  closely  and 
as  earnestly  as  I  could  on  the  subject,  I  was  not  able 
to  see  wherein  lay  his  immunity.  He  was  back 
once  more  in  an  atmosphere  tainted  with  disease. 
Predisposition  had  not  been  eradicated,  and  old 
exciting  causes  were  acting  again.  As  time  went 
on,  and  the  fine  health  he  had  brought  home  with 
him  from  the  asylum  gave  place  to  the  exhausted 
nervous  condition  which  is  sure,  sooner  or  later,  to 
follow  excessive  devotion  to  business,  would  not  the 
old  hunger  for  stimulants  arouse  itself  and  become 
irresistible  ? 

The  more  I  considered  this  view  of  the  case,  the 
more  my  concern  increased ;  and  I  felt  that  some- 
thing far  more  radical  must  be  done  for  Granger 
than  had  yet  been  accomplished,  ere  his  reform  was 
a  thing  assured.  His  drifting  away  from  church  in- 
fluences was,  I  feared,  only  an  indication  of  the 
awakening  of  old  desires,  and  the  turning  of  his 
thoughts  downward  to  the  things  in  which  they  had 
once  found  gratification. 

I  was  much  relieved  on  the  Sunday  following  to 
see  Granger  in  church.  He  sat  for  most  of  the  time 
during  the  services  in  an  attentive  attitude ;  and  it 
struck  me  that  his  manner  was  unusually  subdued 
and  serious.  I  noticed  that  while  a  particular  lesson 
from  Scripture  was  read,  that  his  eyes  were  not 
taken  from  the  clergyman  for  a  single  moment.  It 
was  the  one  hundred  and  twenty-first  Psalm:  "I 


TUE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CT7.1/:. 

will  lift  up  my  eyes  unto  the  hills,  from  whence 
ih  my  help.  My  help  corneth  from  the  Lord, 
which  made  heaven  and  earth.  He  will  not  suffer 
thy  foot  to  be  moved  :  he  that  keepeth  thee  will  not 
slumber.  Behold,  he  that  keepeth  Israel  shall 
neither  slumber  nor  sleep.  The  Lord  is  thy  keeper: 
the  Lord  is  thy  shade  upon  the  right  hand.  The 
sun  shall  not  smite  thee  by  day,  nor  the  moon  by 
nil:  lit.  The  Lord  shall  preserve  thee  from  all  evil: 
lie  .-hall  preserve  thy  soul.  The-  Lord  shall  pre- 
•  thy  going  out  and  thy  coming  in  from  this 
time  forth,  and  even  forever  more." 

Other  passages  read  or  chanted  during  the  ser- 

vices, seemed  as  if  especially  designed  to  meet  his 

.UK!  lead  him  to  put  a  higher  trust  in  God. 

"  They  that  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as  Mount 

Zion,  which  cannot  be  removed,  but  abideth  forever. 

ic  mountains  arc  round  about  Jerusalem,  so  the 

Lord  is  round  about  His  people  from  henceforth 

oven  fniwer."     "The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  all  them 

that  call    uj>on    Him,   to  all   that  call  upon  Him 

in  truth.     He  will   fulfil  the  desire  of  them  that 

Him:    lie  also  will   hear  their  cry,  and  will 

;  hem."    "  Like  as  a  father  piticth  his  children, 

ic  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  Him.     For  !!'• 

knoweth  our  frame;  lie  rcmembereth  that  we  are 


I  "lid  not  get  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Granger 

church,  hut  1  \v;i-  .-truck  with  the  seriousness 

of  hU  face  as  he  passed  along  the  aisle.     His  eyes 


142  STRONG  DRINK; 

were  cast  down,  and  he  did  not  notice  any  one  as  he 
moved  with  the  crowd. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Granger's  case?"  I  asked 
of  Mr.  Stannard,  not  long  after  this. 

"  I  greatly  fear  for  him,"  was  replied. 

"  He  has  kept  himself  straight  since  his  return 
from  the  asylum." 

"  Yes ;  but  the  saving  power  of  such  institutions 
has  its  limits.  They  are  good  as  far  as  they  go,  and 
have  helped  to  restore  many  men  to  good  citizenship. 
I  say  nothing  against  them.  I  wish  their  number 
were  increased.  But  there  are  cases  in  which  they 
rarely,  if  ever,  make  permanent  cures ;  and  Gran- 
ger's is  one  of  them.  The  appetite  for  drink  has 
taken  too  deep  a  hold.  For  him,  I  fear,  there  is  no 
help  in  man.  Only  God  can  save  him ;  and  if  he 
does  not  go  to  God,  humbly  and  prayerfully,  his 
case  is  next  to  hopeless." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  take  so  gloomy  a  view  of  the 
matter,  Mr.  Stannard.  Will  not  God  help  him  un- 
less he  pray  to  Him  ?" 

"  Can  He  help  him  if  he  does  not  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  There's  something  just  here  that 
I  do  not  clearly  understand." 

"  Can  a  mother  feed  her  babe,  though  her  breast 
be  full,  if  it  turn  its  mouth  away  ?  It  may  be  faint- 
ing with  hunger,  and  the  mother's  heart  may  be  full 
of  love  and  pity,  but  if  it  will  not  touch  the  paps 
what  can  she  do  ?  Prayer  is  not  an  arbitrary  ser- 
vice, but  an  attitude  of  the  soul.  A  simple  turning 


TUB  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  143 

of  the  spirit,  conscious  of  its  own  weakness  and  sin- 
iulness,  to  the  source  of  all  goodness  and  strength, 
and  Accepting  what  God  is  ever  seeking  to  give;  but 
which  He  can  only  give  to  those  who  truly  desire 
to  receive.  God  is  always  coming  to  us  and  seeking 
to  save  us ;  but  unless  we  turn  to  Him,  and  look  to 
Him,  our  rescue  is  impossible.  It  is  in  ourselves 
that  we  are  lost;  and  if  we  will  not  come  out  of 
cur-elves,  wherein  are  all  our  pains  and  desolations, 
ho\v  can  God  save  us?" 

"  I  don't  know.  The  way  ought  to  be  made  very 
plain  and  easy." 

"  It  is  plain  and  easy.  Only  to  turn  from  self  to 
God.  Only  to  take  the  hand  that  is  forever  reaching 
down.  Only  to  ask  and  receive,"  Mr.  Stannard  re- 
plied. "  God  cannot  give  to  those  who  will  not  take." 

'  Yes,  yes ;  all  doubtless  true.  But  how  shall  one 
turn  from  self  to  God?  How  grasp  the  hand  that 
is  forever  reaching  down?  How  take  what  God 
perpetually  desires  to  give?" 

44  Only  when  a  man  feels  that  in  and  of  himself 
In-  can  do  nothing,  and  that  unless  help  come  from 
alx»ve  he  must  perish,  can  he  really  turn  from  self 
to  God.  Before  that  he  trusts  in  his  own  strength ; 
au«l  so  long  as  he  does  this,  divine  strength  cannot 
be  given." 

»  \Vhy  not?" 

"Can  a  man  use  what  he  will  not  take?  So  long 
as  one  trusts  in  himself,  he  does  not  use  the  strength 
of  another." 


144  STRONG 

"And  so,  until  a  man  feel  this  utter  helpless- 
ness, God  will  not  reach  down  and  save  him  ?"  said  I. 

"  Of  what  avail  is  God's  offered  hand  if  the  man 
will  not  take  it?  Of  God's  strength  if  the  man  will 
not  use  it  ?  Not  until  he  is  in  utter  despair  of  him- 
self does  he  really  accept  help  from  above.  Until 
then  he  trusts  to  an  arm  of  flesh,  and  not  to  the  all- 
conquering  and  all-sustaining  power  of  God.  In 
the  very  moment  that  a  man  comes  into  this  state 
of  despair  and  lifts  thought  and  desire  heavenward, 
he  prays  effectually ;  takes  hold  of  God ;  gets  his 
feet  upon  a  rock;  comes  within  the  sphere  of  Divine 
protection ;  is  saved  from  the  power  of  his  enemies. 
Forever  saved  ?  Yes,  if  he  keeps  his  hold  upon  God 
and  remains  within  the  sphere  of  His  divine  pro- 
tection. How  shall  he  maintain  this  hold  ?  Only 
through  steady  looking  and  right  living.  He  must 
cease  to  do  evilj  and  learn  to  do  well.  Must  make 
the  laws  of  God  the  laws  of  his  life.  If  this  be  not 
done  God  cannot  make  him  to  dwell  in  safety." 

"  For  a  man  like  Granger,  you  think,  there  is  no 
security  but  in  the  church  ?" 

"  Unless  he  dwell  in  God,  he  cannot  dwell  secure ; 
and  the  church  is  God's  kingdom  on  the 'earth." 

"Does  not  Scripture  say  that  the  kingdom  of 
God  is  within  us  ?" 

"Yes.  God's  kingdom  is  a  spiritual  kingdom, 
and  can  have  no  real  existence  but  in  the  souls  of 
men.  But  it  is  internal  and  external,  because  man 
is  internal  and  external;  and  has  its  internal  sane- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

as  well  as  it  external  ceremonials  and  forms  of 
worship.  The  laws  of  this  kingdom  are  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  Holy  Word ;  and  only  those  who  keep 
these  precepts  in  the  heart  and  life  are  really  the 
suhjects  of  this  kingdom.  All  such  are  free  from 
the  power  of  hell ;  for  God  dwells  in  them  and 
around  them." 

"  Must,  then,  a  man  join  the  church  to  come  into 
God's  kingdom?" 

"  I  think  he  will  find  that  kingdom  by  the  way 
of  a  church  door  more  easily  than  in  any  other  way. 
We  are  none  of  us  so  strong  that  we  can  afford  to  do 
without  the  help  that  comes  from  association  with 
our  fellow-men.  God  did  not  make  us  to  stand 
alone,  but  in  mutual  dependence.  This  is  as  true 
in  spiritual  as  in  natural  things.  And  so  the  church 
to  be  a  power  with  men  must  be  external  as  well  as 
internal." 

"  You  may  be  right  about  all  this,"  I  made  an- 
.  "  Certainly  I  should  feel  more  confidence  in 
(Iran --IT'S  reformation  if  I  knew  that  lie  was  oftener 
at  church.  I  was  glad  to  see  him  there  last  Sunday. 
But  I  have  felt  more  concerned  for  him  since  tin 'ii 
than  usual.  The  reason  may  appear  to  you  a  little 
ttnnge." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  have  never  seen  his  face  so  serious,  nor  his 

manner  so  al>s.  >rl>e<l,  as  they  were  during  the  services 

of  the  morning.      While  the  l«>-«»ns  from  Scripture 

were  read,  his,  eyes  were  scarcely  turned  for  au  in- 

10 


146  STRONG  DRINK; 

stant  away  from  the  minister.  In  all  the  church 
there  was  not,  apparently,  a  more  deeply  interested 
listener." 

"A  reason  for  hope  rather  than  concern,"  said 
Mr.  Staunard. 

"  That  depends  on  the  cause  of  this  unusual  so- 
briety of  demeanor,"  I  answered.  "My  thought 
has  been,  that  the  long  repressed  appetite  is  begin- 
ning to  assault  him  once  more ;  and  that,  day  by 
day,  the  conviction  is  becoming  stronger  and  stronger 
in  his  mind  that  it  will,  sotmer  or  later,  acquire  the 
mastery  again.  Plis  coming  to  church,  and  espec- 
ially his  demeanor  at  church,  may  be  the  signs  of 
his  sense  of  weakness  and  danger ;  an  effort  to  gain 
help  from  higher  influences — a  half-desperate  reach- 
ing out  of  his  hands  in  the  dark  for  something  to 
which  he  may  cling  when  the  waters  that  are  moving 
upon  him  rise  higher  and  gain  the  force  of  a  resist- 
less flood." 

"If  this  be  so  he  is  turning  to  the  Strong  for 
strength,  and  seeking  help  where  it  can  alone  be 
found." 

"  But  don't  you  see,  that  if  this  be  so,  Mr.  Stan- 
nard,  how  desperate  the  case  may  be?  The  floods 
are  rising  against  him.  He  feels  that  his  strength 
is  going.  He  is  half-blind — half-desperate.  Will 
he  take  hold  of  God  ?  If  not,  what  then  ?  Ah ! 
sir,  I  cannot  but  feel  a  low  shiver  of  suspense  as 
I  realize,  in  thought,  this  awful  crisis  for  a  human 
soul." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  147 

"  In  \vliich  it  has  only  to  cry  out  as  it  turns  from 
self  to  God;  'Save,  Lord,  or  I  perish!'  to  be  lifted 
from  the  flood." 

"  Hut  if  it  fail  in  this?  If  it  cannot,  or  will 
not?" 

"  There  is  no  such  thing  as  cannot  for  a  tried  and 
tempted  soul.     It  can  look  to  God,  and  take  hold  of 
,  if  it  will." 

"But,"  I  said,  pressing  the  question,  "if  it  will 
not?" 

The  light  went  out  of  Mr.  Stannard's  face  and  it 
grew  very  sober. 

"  It  was  because  of  this  '  I  will  not,' "  he  replied, 
"that  the  Lord,  in  His  tender  mercy,  bowed  the 
heavens  and  came  down  into  our  very  debased 
humanity,  that  we  might  see  Him  as  a  Divine  Man, 
and  feel  the  warmth  of  His  compassion,  and  know 
Him  as  our  friend  and  Saviour,  and  that  He  might 
inspire  in  us  the  '  I  will,'  by  which  He  could  lift  us 
back  again  into  the  pure  and  happy  life  which  we 
hud  lost." 

"  But  if  this  cannot  now  be  inspired  into  the  soul 
of  Mr.  Granger,"  said  I,  "what  then?  Must  he 
fall  in  his  hour  of  trial  and  darkness?" 

"  If  the  external  strength  which  he  has  acquired 
be  not  sufficient  for  him — the  considerations  of  honor 
and  good  citizenship;  of  worldly  ambition  and  pros- 
perity ;  of  love  and  regard  for  his  wife  and  children  ; 
i-rsonal  well-being  and  happiness, — and  he  will 
nut  take  God's  strength  instead,  what  shall  save 


148  STEONG  DRINK; 

him  ?  I  know  not.  But  let  us  hope  that  he  is  going 
to  God  in  the  right  way.  I  believe  that  he  is." 

"  Ah !  if  one  co'uld  know !  I  feel  that  another 
great  crisis  has  come  to  our  friend.  If  he  should 
not  pass  it  safely,  he  may  fall  never  to  rise  again." 

"  He  can  never  fall  so  low,"  was  answered,  "  that 
God's  love  will  not  be  still  reaching  down  and  seek- 
ing to  save  him.  All  day  long  He  will  stretch  out 
His  hands  to  him ;  all  day  long  call  after  him  in 
tones  of  love  and  compassion,  'Son,  give  me  thy 
heart !'  and  it  will  not  matter  how  low  he  may  fall, 
nor  how  far  away  he  may  wander  into  the  desert  of 
sin  and  shame,  the  moment  he  hearkens  to  that 
voice  and  turns  from  himself  to  God,  he  will  be  in 
the  fold  of  safety.  It  is  a  good  thing  for  Granger 
that  he  is  feeling  his  own  helplessness,  and  begin- 
ning to  look  for  help  from  above.  He  may  not  find 
it  now,  because  he  may  not  be  ready  to  give  his 
heart  to  God ;  but  if,  trusting  in  his  own  strength, 
he  should  fall  again,  God  will  not  forsake  him,  but 
still  go  after  him,  and  it  may  be  find  him  so  weak, 
and  helpless,  and  despairing,  that  he  will  no  longer 
hold  back,  but  throw  himself  into  the  loving  arms 
of  his  divine  Saviour.  Then  will  be  born  in  him 
a  new  life  from  above ;  and  if  he  live  this  life  he 
shall  never  fall  again ;  for  it  is  a  heavenly  life.  Not 
a  mere  life  of  faith  and  feeling,  but  of  love  to  God 
and  good  will  to  man,  that  continually  shows  itself 
in  a  keeping  of  the  commandments  in  the  spirit  as 
well  as  in  the  letter." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  14Q 

'•  It  is  your  belief,  then,"  said  I,  "that  until  Mr. 
Granger  becomes  a  religious  man  there  is  very  little 
hope  for  him?" 

"  Very  little,  I  fear." 

"  He  must  unite  himself  with  the  church  ?" 

"  It  would  be  better  for  him.  But  joining  the 
church  will  not  make  him  a  religious  man.  That 
is  the  effect  of  an  internal  change,  not  of  an  external 
relation.  There  must  be  a  new  spiritual  birth  before 
there  can  be  a  new  man.  *  Marvel  not  that  I  said 
unto  thee,  Ye  must  be  born  again.' " 

"Ah!  if  we  knew  just  what  that  meant,"  I  caid. 

"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh,"  said 
Mr.  Stannard.  "  Let  us  rise  higher  in  our  thought. 
The  new  birth  is  in  the  soul.  It  has  been  down 
into  the  world,  where  it  has  gone  by  way  of  the 
•«,  and  has  lived  the  life  of  the  world,  which  is 
a  selfish  life,  and  evil  because  selfish.  The  more 
intense  this  life,  the  more  opposite  to  the  life  of 
Heaven  has  it  become.  Now,  unless  a  new  life  be 
Imni  in  the  soul,  it  can  never  come  into  Heaven, 
which  is  a  state  of  love  to  the  Lord  and  the  neigh- 
bor. How  this  life  is  born  is  the  great  and  import- 
ant question.  Let  me  make  it  as  clear  to  your  un- 
derstanding as  lies  in  my  power.  This  new  birth 
is  effected  by  means  of  Divine  truth  cast  into  the 
mind  as  a  seed,  and  the  new  spiritual  birth  has  its 
lining  in  the  very  moment  that  a  man  endeavors 
earnestly  and  by  the  help  of  God  to  obey  this  truth. 
For  to  do  is  to  live.  If  the  doing  is  in  obedience  to 


150  STRONG  DRINK; 

Divine  truth,  which  teaches  that  a  man  shall  not 
only  love  God,  but  cease  to  do  evil,  then  the  new 
man,  a  weak  and  almost  helpless  infant  as  yet,  be- 
gins really  to  live  and  grow ;  and  the  Divine  sphere 
is  round  about  it,  and  all  the  powers  of  Heaven  are 
arrayed  for  its  protection.  It  is  absolutely  safe,  this 
new-born  child,  so  long  as  it  takes  the  sincere  milk 
of  the  Word,  and  lives  thereby.  But  in  danger  the 
moment  it  turns  itself  away  therefrom,  and  attempts 
to  feed  on  the  husks  that  can  only  sustain  the  lower 
life  of  selfishness  and  sin.  The  spiritual  man  can- 
not subsist  on  these.  It  must  have  heavenly 'food 
or  it  will  die." 

"  Then  it  is  not  the  instantaneous  washing  and 
purifying  of  the  old  natural  man,  but  the  birth  of 
a  new  spiritual  man,  which  must  live  and  grow  until 
it  attain  the  full  stature,  as  the  apostle  says,  of  a  man 
in  Christ  Jesus  ?" 

"  The  natural  man  is  for  this  world.  The  spirit- 
ual man  for  Heaven.  We  must  come  into  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven  as  little  children,  not  as  full- 
grown  spiritual  men.  He  called  a  little  child  and 
set  him  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  said,  '  Verily  I 
say  unto  you,  except  ye  be  converted,  and  become 
as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven.'  First  a  weak  child,  with  the 
angels  that  do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father 
close  about  Him ;  afterwards  a  strong  spiritual  man, 
ruling  in  righteousness  over  all  the  lower  things 
of  natural  life,  and  bringing  them  into  heavenly 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE, 

onli-r — establishing  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the 
natural  man,  and  doing  the  will  of  God  in  the  earth 
as  it  is  done  in  Heaven." 

"  Taking  this  view,"  I  said,  "  is  not  the  confident 
state  of  mind  we  so  often  see  in  young  converts  one 
of  false  security,  and  attended  with  great  danger  ? 
A\Y  hear  them  speak  with  the  assurance  of  strong 
men." 

"  While  yet  only  babes  in  Christ  Yes,  this  state 
is  one  of  false  security,  and,  therefore,  its  dangers 
are  great  No  wonder  that  so  many  stumble — that 
so  few  keep  to  their  first  love.  They  use  strong 
meat  instead  of  milk ;  try  to  lift  themselves  to  the 
stature  of  full-grown  men,  and  to  walk  with  long 
strides;  are  bold  and  confident  But  being  only 
little  children,  they  fall ;  having  no  root  themselves, 
they  endure  but  for  a  while,  and  when  tribulations 
ami  persecutions  arise  because  of  the  Word,  by  and 
by  they  are  offended." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

I  II AD  left  my  office  a  little  earlier  than  usual  in 
the  afternoon,  and  was  on  my  way  homeward, 
when,  on  turning  the  corner  of  a  street,  I  saw  Mr. 
Granger  just  in  advance  of  me.  He  was  walking 
slowly,  with  his  head  bent  slightly  forward.  Quick- 
ening my  pace,  I  soon  joined  him.  As  I  laid  my 
hand  on  his  arm  and  spoke,  he  gave  a  start,  and 
when  I  looked  into  his  face  I  saw  the  color  rising. 

o 

There  was  something  in  his  eyes  that  gave  me  a 
feeling  of  uneasiness.  His  manner  was  more  re- 
pressed than  cordial. 

We  walked  together  for  the  space  of  a  few  blocks, 
and  then  our  ways  parted.  We  had  not,  in  our 
efforts  to  talk,  touched  upon  any  subject  in  which 
we  found  a  mutual  interest ;  and  therefore  our  brief 
intercourse  had  been  marked  by  constraint.  What 
followed  our  separation  I  learned  long  afterwards, 
and  from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Granger  himself.  I  give 
the  story  in  his  own  words : 

"  I  had  been  fighting  the  old  appetite  desperate- 
ly," said  he ;  "  fighting  it  for  weeks,  and  being  often 
on  the  very  eve  of  defeat  and  surrender.  But  the 
awful  condition  into  which  I  would  be  cast  if  I  fell 
jnto  the  enemy's  power  held  me  to  my  post.  I  saw 
152 


TIII-:  CURSE  AXD  Tin:  c:  153 

my  home  desolated,  my  wife  broken-hearted,  my 
children  beggared — and  I  so  loved  them!  I  saw 
myself  cast  down  again,  and  to  a  lower  depth  of 

;y  and  degradation  than  any  into  which  I  had 
yet  fallen.  The  horror  that  was  before  me  was  ap- 
palling, and  all  the  while  I  felt  the  peril  increas- 
ing— my  enemy  growing  stronger,  and  my  power  of 

lanee  weaker. 

•'  And  now  it  seemed  as  if  all  hell  were  against 
mo.  I  could  not  look  this  way  or  that — go  here  nor 
there,  but  temptation  met  me  face  to  face.  Men 
who  knew  nothing  of  my  past  history,  and  some 
who  knew  it  too  well,  invited  me  to  drink.  At  din- 

.  at  social  gatherings,  at  private  interviews  with 
clients,  at  friendly  meetings  on  the  streets  and  in 

•s  and  stores,  the  glass  was  offered  or  the  invi- 
tation to  drink  given.  I  wearied  of  saying  no,  and 
began  to  feel  ashamed  of  the  weakness  that  so 
of; en  brought  on  me  a  look  of  surprise  when  I 
pushed  the  extended  cup  aside.  Ill  the  street  I 

!  not  walk  for  half  a  square  without  encounter- 
ing a  saloon  which  gave  to  appetite  a  reminder 
through  the  sense  of  sight  or  smell.  You  may 
think  it  strange,  but  I  have  gone  out  of  my  way 
attain  and  auain,  in  order  to  avoid  passing  a  certain 
drinking  saloon,  the  very  sight  of  which,  more  tlia.i 
any  oiln-r,  <jiiiek»-ned  my  desire  for  liquor. 

"Stronger  and  stronger  K-eumc  the  pressure  of 
the   downward   current,   and   my  sense  of  d:.: 

i          .ed  this  way  and   that  for  help,  but 


154  STIiOXG  DRINK; 

saw  no  way  of  escape.  All  faith  in  my  own  man- 
hood was  fast  leaving  me,  and  I  knew  that  the  time 
must  come  when  some  stronger  sweep  of  the  waters 
would  bear  me  away. 

"  It  was  this  feeling  that  drew  me  to  church  some- 
times. But  I  went,  always,  under  a  kind  of  protest, 
and  while  there  too  often  set  "  my  thought  against 
what  I  heard,  instead  of  opening  my  mind  to  the 
sacred  influences  of  the  place.  I  shall  never  forget 
the  last  Sunday  on  which  I  attended  worship — I  tried 
to  stay  away,  and  made  many  excuses  to  myself  for 
remaining  at  home.  But  none  of  them  prevailed. 
As  I  entered  the  church  doors  on  that  morning,  I 
was  conscious  of  a  new  feeling.  As  if  I  had  stepped 
from  an  arena  where  I  had  been  fighting  for  my 
life,  into  a  place  of  rest  and  safety.  My  heart  was 
touched  and  opened.  The  lessons  from  the  Bible 
particularly  impressed  me ;  and  many  of  the  divine 
words  seemed  as  if  spoken  for  my  assurance.  I  felt, 
as  I  had  never  felt  before,  that  by  the  help  of  God 
I  might  stand  fast ;  and  I  resolved  to  go  to  Him  and 
ask  Him  for  aid  and  succor. 

"  I  went  out  in  the  afternoon,  saying  to  my  wife 
that  I  was  going  to  see  Mr.  Stannard.  I  wanted  to 
have  a  talk  with  this  good  man  about  religion  and 
the  church,  for  I  had  great  confidence  in  him.  But 
I  did  not  do  as  I  intended ;  and  here  was  my  fatal 
error.  When  only  a  short  distance  from  his  house, 
I  met  a  couple  of  friends  riding  out,  and  weakly 
yielded  to  their  solicitations  to  go  with  them  for  a 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  155 

drive  in  the  Park.  As  I  entered  the  carriage  I  was 
l>le  of  an  opposite  impression  to  that  which  I 
had  frit  in  the  morning.  Then  it  seemed  to  me  as 
if  I  had  passed  from  strife  and  peril  into  a  place  of 
safety ;  now,  from  a  sphere  of  safety  into  one  of  dan- 
ger. But  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  recede.  The  car- 
riage was  in  motion  again  and  I  once  more  adrift 
on  a  current  too  strong  for  my  steadily  lessening 
powers  of  resistance. 

"  A  drive  for  an  hour  in  the  Park  with  pleasant 
friends,  and  then  an  invitation  to  drink  at  one  of 
the  restaurants.  I  took  only  ginger  ale;  but  the 
smell  of  their  stronger  liquors  was  in  my  nostrils, 
and  I  felt  an  almost  irrepressible  desire  to  taste  them. 
The  very  act  of  drinking  with  these  friends,  though 
what  I  took  might  only  be  a  harmless  beverage,  had 
an  evil  influence  on  me. 

"I  would  see  Mr.  Stannard  in  the  evening,  I 
thought,  as  I  entered  the  carriage;  but  when  cven- 
ing  came,  my  state  of  mind  had  undergone  so  com- 
plete a  change,  that  the  very  thought  of  religious 
things  was  distasteful.  For  the  two  or  three  days 
that  followed,  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  turn  to  the 
right  hand  nor  to  the  left  without  temptation.  It 
not  greater  than  usual,  perhaps;  only  I  was 
weaker  and  more  open  to  assault  The  day  at  whose 
I  met  you,  as  I  was  on  my  way  homeward,  had 
marked  not  only  by  many  incidents  of  warn- 
ing, but  by  an  unwonted  numl>or  of  solicitations.  I 
ry  and  exhausted  from  incessant  conflict; 


156  STRONG  DRINK; 

and  what  was  worse,  my  mind  was  losing  its  balance. 
I  could  not  hold  it  to  the  high  considerations  of 
honor,  and  duty,  and  love,  which  had  hitherto  in- 
fluenced me.  A  cloud  came  down  over  it.  Clear- 
seeing  was  gone.  I  felt  only  an  irresistible  craving. 
It  was  as  if  an  evil  spirit  had  taken  possession  of  per- 
ception and  feeling,  and  held  them  to  a  single 
thought  and  desire ;  the  thought  of  liquor  and  the 
desire  to  drink.  Was  I  not  for  the  time  insane  and 
irresponsible  ?  Could  I  help  the  fatal  plunge  I  made  ? 
"  You  remember  our  brief  meeting.  Scarcely  had 
we  parted  when  a  client  for  whom  I  was  conducting 
an  important  suit,  laid  his  hand  on  me,  saying: 
*  Ah !  This  is  fortunate,  Granger.  I  missed  you  at 
your  office.  Some  new  facts,  of  great  importance 
in  our  case,  have  come  into  my  possession,  and  I 
wished  you  to  have  them  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible.' He  drew  his  arm  in  mine  and  we  walked 
for  a  short  distance,  trying  to  converse.  But  the 
noise  and  confusion  of  the  street  interrupted  us. 
As  we  were  passing  a  drinking  saloon,  he  said : 
'  Come ;  we'll  get  a  quiet  corner  in  here,  and  talk 
this  matter  over.'  I  went  with  him  passively.  "We 
found  a  quiet  corner.  '  What  will  you  have?'  he 
said.  I  made  a  feeble  effort  to  get  to  my  lips  the 
words,  l  Nothing  for  me,'  but  failed,  and  in  their 
stead,  as  if  my  organs  of  speech  were  controlled  by 
another,  answered,  *  Not  particular.  Anything  you 
please.'  Beer  was  set  before  me,  and  I  drank.  You 
know  the  rest." 


THE  CUPJSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

His  client  did  not  find  him  at  his  office  on  the 
morning,  nor  in  the  court-room  when  the  trial 
of  his  case,  which  had  been  opened  on  the  previous 
•  lay,  was  continued.  The  new  facts  which  had  been 
givi-n  to  Granger  were  not  put  in  evidence,  and  the 
associate  counsel  had,  in  his  absence,  to  meet  the 
issue  without  them.  The  result  proved  disastrous — 
the  case  was  lost  But  that  was  of  small  considera- 
tion in  comparison  with  the  loss  of  the  man  who 
had  been  tempted  at  the  moment  when  the  power  to 
resist  was  almost  gone. 

I  low  rapid  the  fall  which  came.  It  was  an  almost 
i  long  plunge.  The  whole  man  seemed  to  give 
way.  For  over  two  weeks  it  was  a  perpetual  de- 
bauch with  drink,  and  the  end  came  only  when  the 
ovcr-st rained  nerves  and  organs  gave  way,  and  he 
prostrated  by  sickness.  His  recovery  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  speedy  relapse  into  intemperance.  As 
far  a.s  could  be  seen,  there  was  no  longer  any  effort 
on  his  part  to  resist  the  demon  of  appetite,  or  to  strug- 
gle against  the  stream  that  was  bearing  him  down. 
I  n  every  conflict  with  this  demon  he  had  in  the  end 
been  beaten,  and  with  each  new  rally  there  had  been 
loss  of  strength.  What  hope  of  victory  in  any  new 
battle?  He  felt  that  there  was  none,  and  weakly 
abandoned  himself  to  his  fate. 

Alas  for  the  swift  descent  I  Friends  fell  nv.-ay 
from  him.  Clients  removed  their  cases  from  his 
hands.  Business  forsook  his  office.  More  than  half 
his  time  was  spent  in  drinking-saloons,  or  in  sleep- 


158  STRONG  DRINK; 

ing  off  the  effects  of  drunkenness.  Scarcely  six 
months  had  elapsed  when,  in  passing  his  residence 
on  Spruce  Street  one  day,  I  saw  a  bill  on  the  door. 
The  house  was  for  rent.  In  the  following  week  he 
moved  away,  his  family  dropping  again  out  of  the 
old  circles. 

Occasionally,  after  this,  I  met  him  on  the  street. 
The  change  in  his  appearance  was  sad  to  witness. 
Excessive  drinking  had  swollen  and  distorted  his 
face,  robbing  it  of  its  fine  intelligence.  All  the  fire 
had  gone  out  of  his  eyes.  Meeting  him  on  one  oc- 
casion, I  took  his  hand  and  said :  "  Granger,  my 
dear  man,  this  is  all  wrong.  You  will  kill  your- 
self." 

A  strange  gleam  shot  across  his  face,  and  there 
was  a  brief  disturbance  in  his  manner.  Then,  with 
a  short  laugh,  he  replied :  "All  right.  The  sooner 
it's  over  the  better." 

"No,  no.  It's  all  wrong.  Come  round  to  my 
office.  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

"  No,  thank  you.  It  won't  be  of  any  use ;  and 
besides,  I've  an  engagement." 

"  It's  never  too  late  to  mend,"  I  urged.  "  Never 
too  late  to  stop — " 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  he  said, 
with  some  impatience  of  manner,  interrupting  me. 
"  When  the  devil  of  drink  gets  you  fairly  in  his 
clutches,  there's  small  chance  left.  Good-bye,  and 
God  bless  you !"  There  was  a  break  in  his  voice  in 
the  closing  sentence. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

Turning  from  me  abruptly,  he  walked  away.  I 
1,  not  long  afterwards,  that  in  order  to  keep  her 
two  younger  sisters  at  school,  his  oldest  daughter, 
Amy,  a  beautiful  young  girl,  who  made  her  appear- 
ance in  society  about  a  year  before,  had  assumed 
the  duties  of  a  teacher  in  the  seminary  where  they 
being  educated,  and  that  Mrs.  Granger  was 
trying  to  get  music  scholars. 

Next  it  was  said  that  Granger  had  become  abusive 
to  liis  family.  I  could  not  believe  this,  for  I  knew 
something  of  the  natural  tenderness  of  his  heart, 
and  the  strength  of  his  old  love  for  his  wife  and 
children.  Even  while  under  the  influence  of  drink, 
I  did  not  believe  that  he  would  be  anything  but 
personally  kind  to  them.  How  great,  therefore,  was 
my  surprise  and  sorrow,  when,  a  few  months  later, 
the  fact  became  known  that  his  wife  had  left  him 
on  account  of  ill  treatment,  and  was  living  with  her 
three  daughters  in  the  family  of  a  relative. 

Granger  still  had  his  law  office,  and  was  occasion- 
ally in  court  as  counsel  in  some  petty  larceny  or 
assault  and  battery  case,  picking  up  a  fee  here  and 
tin  TO,  and  managing  to  get  money  enough  to  supply 
the  demands  of  his  insatiate  and  steadily  increasing 
appetite.  ]>ut  the  time  came  when  even  this  poor 
resource  failed.  "When  few,  if  any,  were  found  will- 
ing to  trust  even  the  most  trifling  case  to  a  man  who 
might  stand  up  in  court  on  the  day  of  trial  so  much 
intoxicated  as  to  U»  unable  to  tell  on  which  side  of 
the  case  he  was  pleading. 


1(30  STRONG  DRINK; 

In  less  than  two  years  from  the  date  of  his  last 
relapse  into  drunkenness,  Granger  had  fallen  so  low 
that  to  get  money  for  drink  he  would  stoop  to  any 
meanness  or  falsehood.  All  shame,  all  sense  of 
honor,  all  regard  for  the  truth,  had  died  out  of  him. 
lie  had  become  a  miserable  beggar,  making  his 
daily  round  among  the  law  offices  and  through  the 
court-rooms,  soliciting  the  loan  of  a  trifle  here  and 
a  trifle  there  from  old  friends  and  acquaintances,  and 
taking  rebuffs,  curses,  stern  rebukes  and  pitiful  re- 
monstrances with  but  few  signs  of  feeling.  Promises 
of  amendment  he  would  make  without  limit.  If 
the  askcd-for  loan  were  withheld  under  the  plea 
that  he  would  spend  it  for  drink,  he  would  not  hesi- 
tate about  making  the  most  solemn  asseveration  that 
he  had  taken  no  liquor  for  days,  and  only  wanted 
to  get  something  to  eat,  not  having  tasted  food  for 
twenty-four  or  thirty-six  hours,  as  this  or  that  period 
happened  to  come  to  his  lips.  One  lie  with 
him  was  as  good  as  another,  so  that  it  served  his 
purpose.  And  there  had  been  a  time  when  he  would 
have  felt  his  high  sense  of  personal  honor  tarnished 
by  even  a  small  prevarication !  So  had  the  robber 
demon  of  drink  despoiled  the  man !  And  not  of 
honor  alone;  every  moral  sense  had  been  stolen 
away,  drugged  into  sleep,  or  wrested  from  him. 

I  saw  a  crowd  in  the  street  one  day,  and  crossed 
to  see  what  it  meant.  As  I  came  near,  I  observed 
a  slender  girl,  who  had  been  drawn  into  the  group 
of  men  and  women,  moving  back  hastily,  as  if 


I  -aw  Alexander  ( Jrantrer  sitting  on  the  pavement  and  leaning  back  asrahist 
a  d<»(ir->ici>  si>  drunk  that  lie  could  scarcely  hold  his  head  up."— I'uyi 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl 

• 

shocked  by  what  she  had  witnessed  in  the  centre  of 
the  crowd.  A  white,  almost  terror-stricken  face 
met  my  view  as  she  turned.  I  was  impressed  by 
something  familiar  in  its  contour  and  expression.  I 
saw  it  only  for  an  instant,  for  the  young  girl  fled 
:ne  as  one  affrighted  and  went  hurrying  down 
the  street.  For  a  moment  or  two  I  stood  looking 
iiftrr  In-r  swiftly-retreating  form,  wondering  where 
1  had  scon  her.  All  doubts  were  settled  when,  on 
ing  forward,  I  saw  Alexander  Granger  sitting 
on  the  pavement  and  leaning  back  against  a  door- 
step, so  drunk  that  he  could  scarcely  hold  his  head 
iij> ;  while  a  policeman  was  endeavoring  to  lift  him 
to  his  fee -t.  The  girl  was  his  daughter,  Amy. 

A  few  hours  afterwards,  as  I  stood  on  the  steps  of 
my  own  residence,  about  to  enter,  the  door  was 
drawn  open  from  within  and  I  met  the  face  of 
Granger's  daughter  again.  The  whiteness  had  not 
yet  gone  out  of  it.  She  gave  a  little  start  at  sec-ing 

lisa  Granger,  I  believe,"  said  I,  with  kind 
familiarity  in  my  voice,  extending  my  hand  at  tho 
same  time.  I  felt  a  tremor  in  the  small,  soft  palm 
that  was  laid  in  mine  for  an  instant  and  then  with- 
drawn. Tears  were  coming  in  the  poor  girl's  eyes, 
and  I  saw  that  her  lips  were  quivering.  I  stepped 

that  she  might  pass,  and  in  a  moment  she  was 
gone. 

Inside  the  door  my  own  precious  daughter,  just 
Amy's  age,  met  me,  and  laid  her  loving  kisses  on 
11 


1(32  STRONG  DRINK; 

• 

my  lips.  I  could  not  trust  myself  to  speak  because 
of  the  tearful  pity  that  was  in  my  heart  for  the 
worse  than  fatherless  girl  who  had  just  gone  over 
the  threshold  of  my  happy  home. 

"  What  did  Amy  Granger  want  ?"  I  asked,  as, 
with  an  arm  about  my  daughter,  we  went  from  the 
hall  into  the  parlor. 

"  She's  trying  to  get  a  place  in  the  Mint,  and  she 
called  to  ask  mother  about  it,  and  to  see  if  you 
wouldn't  sign  her  application." 

"  Why,  of  course  I  will.     Did  she  leave  it  ?" 

"  Yes.  And  she  asked  mother  to  ask  you  if  you 
didn't  know  somebody  else  who  would  help  her  by 
signing  it." 

"Poor  child!"  I  said,  pityingly.  "To  be  so 
robbed  and  wronged !  Of  course  I'll  do  all  in  my 
power  to  help  her.  I'll  see  the  Director  of  the  Mint 
myself,  and  if  there's  a  place  vacant,  I'll  not  leave  a 
stone  unturned  but  she  shall  have  it." 

"  There's  something  so  sweet  about  her,"  said  my 
daughter.  "  So  refined  and  modest,  and  gentle.  Oh! 
it  must  be  very  hard.  What  an  awful  thing  this 
drunkenness  is !  Why,  father,  dear,"  and  the  sweet 
girl  drew  her  arms  about  my  neck  and  laid  her 
cheek  against  mine,  "  I  should  not  have  a  moment's 
peace  if  you  drank  wine  or  beer  every  day  as  some 
men  do." 

"  You'd  have  cause  for  trouble,  my  darling,  if 
that  were  so,"  I  replied,  "  for  no  man  who  uses  them 
can  be  regarded  as  safe.  I  know  of  a  dozen  ruined 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

s  that  were  once  as  secure  and  as  happy  as 
ours.  It  was  drink  that  desolated  them.  And  I 
know  of  many  more  that  are  in  danger,  and  towards 
which  ruin  is  walking  with  slow  but  steady  steps." 
held  her  arms  more  tightly  about  my  neck. 
When  she  lifted  her  cheek  from  mine  her  eyes  were 
wet  with  tears. 

My  efforts  to  secure  a  situation  in  the  Mint  for 
Ififfl  Granger  were  not  successful,  another  applicant 
for  the  vacant  place  getting  the  appointment  But 
my  interest  and  that  of  my  family  were  thoroughly 
awakened  in  behalf  of  the  girl,  who  not  only  de- 
sired independence  for  herself,  but  an  opportunity 
to  help  her  mother  and  younger  sisters.  The  best 
that  could  be  done  for  her  in  the  beginning  was  to 
secure  the  position  of  attendant  in  a  photograph  gal- 
at  four  dollars  a  week.  It  was  accepted  with 
thankfulness.  Mrs.  Granger,  who  had  commenced 
giving  lessons  in  music  even  before  her  separation 
from  her  husband,  continued  in  the  profession  of 
er,  and  had  scholars  enough  to  give  her  a  mod- 
income  and  keep  her  above  absolute  depend- 
on  the  relatives  who  had  so  kindly  offered  her 
a  home  in  her  sore  extremity. 

It  was  three  or  four  months  after  we  had  succeeded 
in  getting  a  place  for  Amy  Granger,  that,  on  coming 
home  one  day,  I  found  her  mother  waiting  to  see 
me.  I  did  not  know  her  on  first  coming  into  the 
parlor,  a  year  or  two  had  so  changed  her,  and  when, 
on  my  entrance,  she  arose  and  introduced  herself,  I 


1(34  STRONG  DRINK; 

could  scarcely  believe  it  possible  that  the  wife  of 
Alexander  Granger  was  before  me. 

"  I've  called  to  see  you  on  account  of  my  daugh- 
ter," she  said,  after  being  seated  again.  Her  manner 
was  much  embarrassed ;  and  she  was  evidently  try- 
ing to  hide  the  distress  from  which  she  was  suffering. 

"  What  about  Amy  ?"  I  asked. 

"  You  were  very  kind  in  getting  her  into  that 
photograph  gallery,"  she  answered, "  and  we  were  all 
so  grateful." 

"  She  hasn't  lost  her  situation,  I  hope  ?" 

Yes,  she  had  lost  it ;  I  saw  this  in  the  mother's 
face. 

"  How  came  it  ?"  I  asked.  "  Didn't  she  give  sat- 
isfaction ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,  sir.  It  was  all  right  so  far  as  that 
went ;  and  they  had  increased  her  pay  to  five  dollars 
a  week.  But — "  I  saw  the  tears  flooding  her  eyes 
as  the  quaver  in  her  voice  checked  her  speech. 
"  Amy  couldn't  come  and  tell  you  herself,"  she  re- 
sumed, as  she  recovered  her  self-possession.  "It 
was  too  hard  for*  the  poor  child.  But  she  wanted 
me  to  see  you." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  I  said,  kindly.  "  I'm  sure 
it  was  no  fault  of  hers,  poor  child !" 

"  Indeed  it  was  not,  Mr.  Lyon.  It  made  her  sick. 
She  was  in  bed  for  two  or  three  days ;  and  she  looks 
as  if  she'd  come  out  of  a  long  spell  of  sickness." 

"  She  mustn't  take  it  so  to  heart,"  I  replied.  "  No 
doubt  it  can  all  be  made  right  again." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'RE.  105 

"Oh!  no,  sir.  She  can't  go  back  there  any 
more." 

"  Why  not,  Mrs.  Granger?" 

"Because — because — "  her  voice  breaking  and 
quivering  ti^ain.  Then  she  recovered  herself  and 
said,  with  firmer  speech:  "It's  on  account  of  her 
father."' 

"  It  can't  be  possible,"  I  spoke  with  some  indigna- 
tion, "that  his  misdeeds  should  stand  in  the  way  of 
IHT  honest  efforts  at  self-support !  No  one  could  be 
so  cruelly  unjust  toward  her  as  that" 

Then  the  truth  came  out.  Let  me  give  the  story 
as  it  came  to  me  then,  and  follow  out  the  sequel  as  it 
came  to  me  afterwards. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  shock  of  seeing  her  father  in  the  condition 
we  have  described,  hurt  deeply  the  sensitive 
nature  of  Amy  Granger.  All  affection  for  him,  de- 
based and  degraded  as  he  was,  had  not  died  in  her 
heart.  Memory  held  too  many  sweet  pictures  of  the 
old,  dear  home  Which  she  had  lost,  and  of  the  tender 
and  loving  father  who  had  once  been  the  light  and 
joy  of  that  home.  She  could  never  walk  the  street 
afterwards  without  a  nervous  fear  of  again  encounter- 
ing him.  From  this  she  was  spared"  for  several 
months  after  obtaining  the  place  of  an  attendant  in 
the  rooms  of  a  photographer. 

But  one  morning,  just  as  she  was  at  the  entrance  of 
these  rooms,  she  met  her  father  face  to  face.  He  had 
slept  in  a  station-house,  and  had  just  been  sent  forth, 
exhausted  from  want  of  food,  and  with  every  nerve 
unstrung  for  lack  of  stimulants,  wretched  in  feeling 
and  loathesome  in  appearance.  The  shocked  and 
half-frightened  girl  glided  swiftly  past  him,  and  fled 
trembling  up  the  stairway  leading  to  the  gallery  in 
which  she  was  employed,  hoping  that  he  had  not 
recognized  her.  But  in  this  she  was  mistaken. 
Scarcely  had  she  reached  the  second  floor  ere  she 
heard  him  following  her  up  the  stairs,  shuffling  and 
166 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

•tumbling  by  the  way.  Retreating  to  the  back  part 
of  the  room,  she  stood  breathless  and  frightened, 
until  the  awfully  marred  and  distorted  face  of  her 
father  looked  in  upon  her  from  the  door.  The  sight 
almost  broke  her  heart.  But  in  an  instant  all  thought 
of  herself  was  forgotten.  The  love  which  had  been 
trampled  upon,  bruised  and  broken,  and  wounded 
almost  to  the  death,  lifted  itself  into  the  agony  of  a 
new  life,  and  threw  out  its  arms  wildly.  In  this 
poor  dismantled  wreck  of  humanity,  storm-beaten, 
helpless  and  deserted,  she  saw  the  father  on  whose 
-t  she  had  once  lain  in  sweet  confidence.  All  the 
happy  past  came  back  in  a  moment;  pity  and  tender- 
ness flooded  her  soul.  Starting  forward,  she  laid  her 
hands  on  him,  saying  in  tones  of  the  deepest  com- 
passion: "Oh,  father!  father!" 

Weak,  nerveless,  helpless  as  a  sick  child,  Granger 
caught  hold  of  his  daughter  with  a  half-despairing 
eagerness,  and  held  on  to  her  as  a  drowning  man  to 
some  new  and  unlooked-for  means  of  succor. 

"  Yes,  it's  your  poor  father,  Amy,"  he  said,  in  a 
,  rattling  voice,  scarcely  a  tone  of  which  she 
irni /<•'!.  "All  that's  left  of  him." 

lie  shivered;  for  the  morning  was  cold,  and  his 
iiarments  were  scant  and  thin.  What  could  she  do 
y?  Before  her  bewildered  thoughts  could  un- 
tangle themselves,  he  gave  the  prompting  words. 

"I  haven't  had  anything  to  eat  since  yesterday, 
Amy."  I  lis  voice  shaking  as  he  spoke. 

The  child's  }xx.§ket-book  warf  in  her  hand  ere  the 


1G8  STRONG  DRINK,- 

sentence  was  finished.  All  it  contained  was  fifty 
cents.  As  she  took  the  money  out,  Granger  caught 
it  from  her  fingers,  saying:  "Oh,  thank  you  dear! 
You  were  always  such  a  good  girl." 

The  little  crumpled  bit  of  paper  was  scarcely  in 
the  man's  possession  ere  he  turned  away  and  went 
stumbling  down  the  stairs,  his  daughter  listening  in 
painful  suspense,  every  moment  expecting  to  hear 
him  fall.  But  he  reached  the  street  in  safety,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  nearest  bar-room  he  could  find. 

When  Amy,  who  had  kept  all  this  from  her 
mother,  reached  the  gallery  next  morning,  she  found 
her  father  already  there  and  awaiting  her  arrival. 
His  appearance  was,  if  possible,  more  wretched  and 
disgusting  than  on  the  day  before.  He  was  sitting 
near  a  table  on  which  were  a  number  of  fancy  photo- 
tgraphs,  stereoscopic  views  and  small  card-cases  and 
frames.  The  sight  of  him  sent  the  color  out  of  his 
daughter's  face,  and  the  strength  out  of  her  limbs. 

"  Oh,  father !  father!"  she  said,  speaking  in  a  low 
voice,  as  she  came  up  to  where  he  was  sitting.  "  It's 
hard  for  me  to  say  it,  but  you  mustn't  come  here  any 
more.  I  shall  lose  my  place  if  you  do." 

She  saw  something  like  a  frightened  look  in  his 
eyes  as  he  got  up  hastily. 

"  I'll  go,  then.  I'll  go  right  away,"  he  answered, 
in  an  abject  manner.  "  But  just  give  me  a  little 
something  with  which  to  get  my  breakfast.  I  haven't 
had  a  mouthful  since  yesterday." 

She  gave  him  the  trifle  of  change  that  was  in  her 


THE  CURSE  J.V7)  THE  CURE.  1(59 

•ok,  which  he  clutched  with  the  same  trem- 
,erness  he  had  shown  on  the  day  before,  and 
:is  hurriedly  made  his  way  to  the  street.     The  only 
ss  of  this  scene  and  that  of  the  preceding  morn- 
was  an  errand  boy. 

"  N  that  man  your  father,  Jtliss  Granger?"  asked 
the  lad,  as  Amy  turned  from  the  door. 
She  could  not  answer  him. 

"  'Cause,  if  he  is,  you'd  better  not  let  him  come 
here  any  more.  There'll  be  trouble  for  you  if  he 
does.  I  thought  'twas  your  father,  and  so  kept  mum 
until  I  could  speak  to  you." 

'  What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Amy,  as  she  turned 
a  scared  face  on  the  boy. 

"  I  don't  like  to  tell  you,  miss.    But  he  stole  one  of 
i  small  morocco  cases.    I  saw  him  slip  it  into  his 
pocket" 

The  poor  girl  dropped  into  a  chair,  white  as  a 
sheet.     Everything  grew  dark  about  her,  and  it  was 
only  by  a  strong  effort  of  the  will  that  she  kept  from 
ng  her  consciousness  and  falling  to  the  floor. 
'  You  are  not  well,  dear,"  said  Amy's  mother,  as 
she  looked  into  the  face  of  her  daughter  on  the 
morning  after  Granger's  first  visit  to  the  photograph 
gallery. 

'  My  head  aches  a  little,"  was  the  evasive  answer. 

Mrs.  Granger  was  sitting  in  the  room  about  an 

hour  after  Amy  left  home,  when  she  heard  some  one 

come  in  and  ascend  the  stairs.     The  footfalls  were  so 

light  as  scarcely  to  give  a  sound.     She  waited,  lid- 


170  STRONG  DRINK; 

tening ;  but  no  one  came  to  her  door.  Listening 
still,  she  perceived  a  faint  rustling  of  garments  as  of 
some  one  passing  up  to  the  rooms  above.  Then  the 
door  of  Amy's  room  was  opened  and  closed  almost 
noiselessly ;  and  all  was  still  again.  What  did  this 
mean?  She  had  a  vague  sense  of  mystery  and  fear. 
For  several  minutes  she  sat  with  ear  bent,  and  heart 
beating  heavily. 

"  Who  came  in  just  now  and  went  up  stairs  ?"  she 
asked  of  one  of  her  younger  daughters  who  entered 
the  room  where  she  was  sitting. 

"  I  heard  no  one,"  answered  the  child. 

"  Go  and  see  if  Amy  has  come  home." 

The  child  did  as  requested,  but  came  back  in  a 
few  moments,  with  a  frightened  look  in  her  eyes, 
and  said :  "  Oh,  mamma !  Amy's  lying  on  her  bed ; 
and  she  won't  speak  to  me." 

Mrs.  Granger  found  her  daughter  as  the  child 
had  said.  Her  face  was  hidden.  She  looked  as  if  she 
had  fallen  across  the  bed  hi  utter  prostration  of 
strength. 

"  Why,  Amy,  dear  I  What's  the  matter  ?  Are  you 
sick?"  ' 

There  was  no  movement  or  reply. 

Mrs.  Granger  bent  over  her  daughter  and  tried  to 
lift  her  face  so  that  she  could  look  into  it ;  but  Amy's 
only  response  was  a  slight  resistance  and  continued 
hiding  of  her  face. 

"  Amy,  my  child !  Why  don't  you  speak  to  me  ? 
Has  anything  happened  ?"  The  alarmed  and  anx- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURR 

mother  pressed  her  questions  rapidly;  but  no 
reply  coining,  she  drew  her  arm  beneath  the  head 
of  her  daughter  and  lifted  and  turned  it  so  that  she 
could  look  into  the  hitherto  hidden  face.  It  was 
j'.ilf  and  rigid,  with  signs  of  intense  suffering  about 
the  closely-shut  mouth.  A  long  time  passed  before 
Mrs.  Granger  could  gather  from  the  unhappy  girl 
the  story  of  her  father's  visits  to  the  gallery,  and  the 
shame  and  disgrace  which  they  had  brought  upon 
Her. 

Many  days  passed  ere  Amy  was  able  to  rise  out 
of  the  deep  prostration  of  mind  and  body  into  which 
she  had  been  thrown,  and  to  turn  her  thoughts  to 
tlu-  work  and  duty  that  were  still  before  her.  She 
could  not  go  back  to  the  photograph  rooms.  That 
question  did  not  have  a  moment's  debate,  either  with 
herself  or  her  mother.  It  was  to  get  my  advice  and 
help  in  this  new  and  most  distressing  state  of  affairs 
that  Mrs.  Granger  had  called  upon  me,  as  mentioned 
in  the  preceding  chapter.  My  sympathies  were 
strongly  excited,  and  I  assured  her  that  I  would  do 
all  in  my  power  to  assist  her  daughter  in  getting 
another  place. 

Meanwhile  the  proprietor  of  the  photograph  gal- 

,  who  had  met  Amy  on  the  stairs  as  she  was 
hurrying  away  and  noticed  the  pallor  and  the  wild 
look  in  her  face,  had  made  inquiry  of  the  lad  as  to 
tin-  meaning  of  her  disturbed  condition.  On  learn- 
ing the  truth,  he  became  greatly  incensed  towards 

:iger — not  so  much  because  of  the  petty  thdt 


172  STRONG  DRINK; 

which  had  been  committed,  as  on  account  of  the 
humiliation  and  suffering  which  he  had  brought 
upon  his  innocent  daughter.  Under  the  heat  of  his 
sudden  indignation  he  started  out,  and  by  the  aid  of 
a  policeman,  succeeded  in  finding  the  miserable  man 
in  one  of  the  saloons  not  far  distant.  On  searching 
him  the  stolen  article  was  discovered  on  his  person. 
His  arrest  and  commitment  by  an  alderman  quickly 
followed.  As  no  one  willing  to  go  bail  for  him 
could  be  found,  he  was  sent  to  the  county  jail,  where 
he  had  been  lying  for  two  or  three  days  when  the 
fact  of  his  imprisonment  first  became  known  to  me 
through  Mr.  Stannard,  a  gentleman  to  whom  brief 
reference  has  already  been  made. 

"  Have  you  heard  about  poor  Granger  ?"  he  said, 
as  we  met  one  morning  on  the  street. 

"  What  about  him  ?"  I  asked. 

"  He's  in  Moyainensing." 

"For  what?" 

"  Theft.  He  stole  some  trifle  from  a  photograph 
gallery,  and  was  arrested  and  sent  to  prison." 

"  Better  there  than  living  a  life  of  drunken  vaga- 
bondism on  the  street,"  I  replied. 

"  I  heard  through  the  prison  agent  that  he  was 
seized  with  mania  soon  after  his  commitment,  and 
had  a  hard  struggle  for  his  life.  But  he  came 
through  after  suffering  the  tortures  of  hell,  greatly 
prostrated  in  mind  and  body." 

"  Poor  wretch !  It  would  have  been  better  had 
he  not  come  through,"  I  made  answer,  with  less  of 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  173 

feeling  in  my  voice  than  was  really  in  my  heart. 
"A  curse  to  himself  and  to  all  who,  unhappily, 
have  any  relationship  with  him,  why  should  he  con- 
tinue to  cumber  the  ground?" 

1  -jx)ke  more  bitterly  than  I -felt,  for  I  had  old 

mbrances  of  this  man  which  drew  upon  my 
sympathies,  and  softened  my  heart  towards  him. 
There  came  to  me,  even  as  I  spoke,  a  strong  and 
pitiful  contrast  between  what  he. had  been  in  the 

of  his  proud  and  honorable  manhood,  and  what 
he  was  now,  debased,  ruined,  homeless,  sick  and  in 
prison. 

"  God  knows  best.  With  Him  are  the  issues  of 
life."  Mr.  Stan  nurd  drew  his  arm  in  mine  as  he 
.<».  "And  now,  friend  Lyon,"  he  continued, 
"  as,  in  God's  providence,  this  man  and  his  dreadful 
condition  have  been  brought  so  clearly  before  us, 
may  we  not  regard  the  fact  as  an  indication  that  it 
is  our  duty  to  make  another  effort  to  save  him  ?  He 

•'•aehed  a  lower  deep  than  any  to  which  he  had 
hitherto  fallen.  May  not  the  awful  sense  of  loss  and 
degradation  whieh  he  must  feel,  quicken  into  life  a 

and  more  intense  desire  to  get  free  from  the 
horrible  pit  into  which  appetite  has  cast  him?  And 
may  not  He  who  alone  is  able  to  save,  find  now  an 
<•ntrar.ro  which  has  been  hitherto  closed  against 
Hfanr 

I  was  near  my  office  when  I  met  Mr.  Stannanl. 
A-  lie  drew  his  arm  in  mine  we  moved  onward  and 
were  soon  at  the  door. 


174  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  Come  in.  I  shall  be  glad  to  talk  with  you  about 
Granger.  If  there  is  any  hope  of  saving  him,  I 
am  ready  to  do  all  that  lies  in  my  power." 

We  sat  down  together  and  gave  his  case  our  most 
earnest  consideration.  As  for  myself,  I  saw  little  if 
anything  to  encourage  a  new  effort  to  rescue  this 
fallen  man.  I  had  read  and  thought  a  great  deal 
about  the  evil  of  drunkenness  in  the  last  year  or  two, 
and  was  satisfied  that,  in  cases  of  what  medical  men 
define  as  confirmed  alcoholism,  a  permanent  cure  is 
rarely  if  ever  effected.  It  was  a  disease  that  might 
be  arrested  for  a  time  through  the  complete  removal 
of  exciting  causes;  but  one  which,  if  predisposing 
causes  were  once  fairly  established,  could  never  be 
radically  cured. 

"  If  there  were  no  bar-rooms  and  no  social  drink- 
ing customs,"  I  said,  as  we  talked,  "  we  might  hope 
to  reform  a  case  like  this.  But  one  might  as  well 
send  a  man  who  had  just  recovered  from  intermittent 
fever  back  again  into  the  miasmatic  region  from 
which  he  had  escaped,  as  a  reformed  drunkard  into 
the  business  and  social  world  of  to-day.  There 
would  be  small  hope  of  escape  for  either  of  them." 

Mr.  Stannard  drew  a  deep  sigh,  but  did  not  an- 
swer. 

I  continued :  "  What  makes  this  case  of  Granger's 
so  discouraging,  is  the  fact  that  every  possible  agency 
of  reform  has  already  been  tried.  You  know  that  he 
was  in  the  New  York  Inebriate  Asylum  for  several 
months." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  175 

• 

"  Yes,  I  am  aware  of  that." 

"  He  came  home  vastly  improved  ;  and  I  had  great 
hopes  of  him  for  awhile.  But  old  associations  and 
old  influences  set  themselves  against  him  from  the 
very  day  of  his  return  home.  It  was  a  continual 
pressure ;  a  continual  dropping ;  a  continual  allure- 
ment. After  awhile  the  old  appetite,  which  had  not 
extinguished,  began  to  show  signs  of  life.  You 
know  the  rest  He  was  not  cured.  And,  from  all  I 
can  learn  of  this  disease  of  drunkenness,  no  one  is 
< -v< T  .so  thoroughly  cured  as  not  to  be  in  perpetual 
•  lander  of  relapse.  We  may  take  Granger  out  of 
prison,  and  set  him  on  his  feet  again ;  but  will  lie 
stand  ?  Nay,  will  he  not  surely  fall  ?  If  I  could 
only  see  a  reasonable  hope.  But  to  my  mind  there 

IS    11HI1C." 

"  There  is  always  hope  in  God,"  said  Mr.  Stannard, 
his  voice  low  but  steady  and  assured. 

My  heart  did  not  give  a  quick  response  to  his 
words. 

"  No  man  ever  falls  so  low  that  Christ  cannot  lift, 
him  up  and  save  him,"  he  added. 

"  I  believe  that,"  was  my  answer.    "  But  how  does 

II'  save?     How,  for  instance,  can  He  save  a  man 

like  Granger?     How  can  His  Divine  power  reach 

him,  and  lift  him  free  from  the  curse  of  the  terrible 

:ite  which  has  enslaved  him?     Men  look  to 

God,  and  pray  to  Him,  and  yet  are  not  savfl.    Clran- 

-•nt  to  church  for  awhile,  and  tried  to  get  a 

higher  strength,  but  it  did  not  come.     Why  ?     Did 


176  STRONG  DRINK; 

• 

God  hold  himself  away  from  him  because  faith  was 
halting  and  blind  ?  Did  He  make  the  measure  of 
this  poor  man's  feeble  mental  effort  the  measure  of 
His  mercy  ?  I  cannot  believe  it." 

"  And  you  must  not,"  Mr.  Stannard  said,  gently, 
"  He  knoweth  our  frame,  and  remembereth  that  we 
are  dust.  Are  not  His  words  explicit — '  Him  that 
cometh  unto  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.'  Run- 
ning through  all  the  Divine  Word,  is  there  not  a 
perpetual  invitation  to  look  to  Him  and  come  to 
Him  for  refuge,  for  safety,  for  strength,  and  for  sal- 
vation ?" 

"  But  how  is  a  man  to  come,  Mr.  Stannard  ?" 
"  We  begin  to  come  the  moment  we  repent  of  our 
sins  and  look  to  the  Lord  for  strength  to  resist  and 
put  them  away.  We  come  nearer  when  we  obey 
His  command,  '  Cease  to  do  evil.'  Then,  and  only 
then,  do  we  put  it  into  the  Lord's  power  to  save  us. 
'  His  name  shall  be  called  Jesus,  for  He  shall  save 
His  people  from  their  sins.'  But  if  the  people  will 
not  quit  the  evil  of  their  doing,  how  can  He  save 
them  from  the  love  of  evil  doing — which  is  the  true 
salvation  ?  '  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock. 
If  any  man  hear  my  voice  and  open  the  door,  I  will 
come  in  to  him.'  Now  what  is  it  that  shuts  the  door 
against  God  ?  Is  it  not  sin ;  the  love  of  self  and 
the  world ;  the  indulgence  of  evil  passions  and 
appetites?  He'cannot  dwell  in  a  heart  where  these 
abide.  They  must  be  cast  out,  a?  id  then  God's  temple 
in  the  human  soul  is  prepared  for  His  entrance." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CT/.7.'.  177 

"But,"  I  said,  "who  can  cast  them  out  but  God? 
>t  this  the  doctrine  of  the  church  ?" 

'  Xone  but  a  Divine  power,"  Mr.  Stannard  an- 
swered, "  can  remove  the  love  of  sinning.  But  first 
man  of  himself  must  open  the  door  which  evil-doing 
has  barred  against  Godi" 

"  How  can  this  be  done?" 

"  There  is  only  one  way.  He  must  cease  to  do  evil 
In  cause  it  is  a  sin  against  God.  Beyond  this  he  has 
no  power  over  his  corrupt  nature.  He  cannot 
clu'nge  his  inner  vileness  into  beauty,  cannot  make 
himself  pure,  cannot  by  good  deeds  enter  the  king- 
dom of  God.  Over  the  external  things  of  thought 
and  act  he  has  power,  but  the  Lord  alone  can  change 
his  inner  affection — take  away  the  heart  of  stone  and 
the  lu  art  of  flesh.  But,  ere  this  can  be  done, 
man  must  not  only  repent  of  his  evil  deeds  because 
they  are  sins,  but  actually  cease  from  doing  them. 
In  the  moment  that  he  does  this  from  a  religious 
principle — that  is  because  to  do  evil  is  contrary  to 
the  Divine  Law,  and  therefore  a  sin  against  God — 
and  looks  to  the  Lord  to  deliver  and  save  him,  in  that 
moment  he  opens  the  door  of  his  heart  for  the  Lord 
to  enter,  and  the  Lord,  who  has  been  knocking  there 
by  1 1  is  1  )ivine  Word  and  commandments,  will  surely 
ci inic  in.  And  so  long  as  he  shuns  evils  as  sins  in 
the  external  of  his.  life,  is  just,  and  merciful,  and 
humble,  God  will  abide  with  him  and  in  him,  and  ho 
shall  walk  as  safely  in  the  midst  of  temptation  as  the 
three  Hebrew  children  in  the  fiery  furnace,  because 
12 


178  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  Son  of  God  is  with  him  as  He  was  with 
them." 

"  Not  of  faith  alone,  nor  of  works,  nor  of  merit," 
I  said. 

"  No,  but  of  obedience.  And  in  the  degree  that 
obedience  becomes  perfected,  will  love  become  per- 
fected. In  the  degree  that  a  man  shuns  in  thought 
and  act  the  evils  that  in  any  way  hurt  his  neighbor 
or  do  dishonor  to  God,  in  that  degree  will  the  Lord 
remove  from  his  heart  the  desire  to  do  them,  and 
give  the  affection  of  good  in  their  place." 

"  Going  back  now  to  Mr.  Granger,"  I  said, "  why, 
when  he  put  away  the  evil  of  drinking  for  so  long 
a  time,  was  not  the  desire  for  this  sinful  indulgence 
taken  away?  Did  he  not  open  the  door  for  the 
Lord  to  come  in  ?" 

"  We  open  the  door  at  which  the  Lord  stands 
knocking  when  we  see  and  acknowledge  the  evils 
in  our  lives  that  hold  the  door  bolted  and  barred 
against  Him,  and  cease  to  do  them  because  they  are 


sins." 


"  Because  they  are  sins  ?" 

"  Yes.  If  we  cease  to  do  evil  from  any  other  con- 
sideration, we  do  not  open  the  door." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  get  your  meaning,"  said  I. 

"  Take  the  case  of  Granger.  Why  did  he  shun 
the  evil  of  drinking  ?" 

"  Because  he  saw  that  it  was  ruining  him." 

"  That  it  was  a  sin  against  himself  rather  than 
against  God,"  said  Mr.  Stannard. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  179 

"  What  is  sin  against  God  ?"  I  asked. 

"Any  and  everything  that  man  does  in  opposition 
to  Divine  order." 

"  The  answer  is  too  general,"  I  said. 

"  The  laws  of  this  order  as  applied  to  man  are 
very  simple  and  direct,"  he  returned.  "  Thou  shalt 
love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself.  Now,  in  Mr.  Granger's  case, 
did  he  make  an  effort  to  control  his  appetite  for 
drink  because  its  indulgence  was  a  sin  against  the 
true  order  of  his  life  and  turned  him  away  from  all 
just  regard  for  God  and  his  neighbor — thus  a  sin 
against  God  Himself — or,  did  his  thought  reach 
only  to  himself  and  to  his  worldly  loss  or  gain  ?" 

"  I  scarcely  think  his  motive  went  as  far  as  you 
suggest" 

"  If  it  did  not,  how  was  God  to  save  him  ?  If  it 
was  not  the  sin  of  intemperance  that  troubled  him, 
but  only  the  consequences  of  that  sin,  there  could 
be  no  true  repentance  and  humiliation  before  God. 
And  here  let  me  say,  Mr.  Lyon,  that  no  man  can  be 
saved  from  any  particular  evil,  as,  for  instance,  that 
of  drunkenness,  unless  at  the  same  time  he  resist 
and  endeavor  to  put  away  all  other  sins  against  God. 
The  whole  man  must  be  reformed  and  regenerated. 
Everything  forbidden  in  the  Word  of  God  must 
be  put  away  through  the  Divine  strength  given 
to  all  who  earnestly  try  to  keep  the  command- 
ments." 

"I  see  your  meaning  more  clearly,"  I  replied. 


130  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  There  must  be  a  new  and  better  life  in  the  whole 


man." 


"If  not  how  can  God  abide  with  him  and  in 
him?" 

"Coming  back  again  to  the  case  of  Granger," 
said  I,  "  and  regarding  it  from  your  standpoint,  is 
there  any  possibility  of  a  permanent  reform  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  You  speak  confidently." 

"  Because  I  have  faith  in  the  Great  Physician  of 
souls.  There  is  a  Divine  healing  power  which  all 
men  may  have  if  they  will." 

"  Nothing  but  a  Divine  power  can  cure  him.  Of 
that  I  am  satisfied." 

"Shall  we  not,  then,  seeing  that  he  has  been 
brought  so  low,  make  an  effort  to  bring  him  under 
the  care  of  this  Great  Physician?  I  have  been 
thinking  about  it  all  day,  and  our  conversation  lias 
only  given  strength  to  a  half-formed  purpose  to  visit 
and  make  one  more  effort  to  save  him." 

"  Let  it  be  done  by  all  means,"  I  replied. 

A  gentleman  who  had  known  Mr.  Granger  came 
into  my  office  at  this  moment,  and  when  he  learned 
of  the  utter  debasement  of  the  man,  and  of  our  pur- 
pose to  make  a  new  effort  to  reclaim  him,  said: 
"  Why  not  place  him  in  the  new  Reformatory  Home 
recently  established  in  our  city  ?" 

"  Reformation  without  regeneration  will  avail 
nothing  in  his  case,"  returned  Mr.  Stannard.  "  The 
best  reformatory  agencies  known  have  been  tried, 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

but  tlu-ir  influences  proved  only  temporary.  He  was 
at  IJinghampton,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  am  aware  of  that.  But  the  institution  to 
which  I  refer,  is  not  an  asylum  for  the  treatment  of 
drunkenness  as  a  disease,  but  a  Christian  Home  in 
which,  while  all  the  physical  needs  of  the  inmates 
are  rightly  cared  for,  an  effort  is  made  to  bring  them 
under  religious  influences,  and  to  lead  them  to  de- 
pend on  God  for  safety." 

"  Is  there  an  institution  like  that  in  our  city  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Stannard,  with  much  interest  in  his  man- 
ner. "  I  never  heard  of  it  before." 

"  It  is  scarcely  a  year  old,"  was  replied.  "  But 
already  the  results  obtained  are  quite  remarkable." 

"  Too  short  a  time  to  predict  much  on  results,"  I 
said.  "The  reformation  of  a  drunkard  that  dates 
back  no  farther  than  a  year,  gives  little  ground  for 

confidence." 

"  Much  depends  on  the  basis  of  the  reformation," 
remarked  Mr.  Stannard.  "  Here,  it  strikes  me,  is 
the  true  basis,  and  I  am  ready  to  hope  much.  But 
what  is  the  name  of  this  institution  and  where  is  it 
located?" 

"  You  will  find  it  in  the  very  centre  of  our  city. 
They  call  it  the  Franklin  Reformatory  Home  for 
Inebriates ;  and  from  what  I  hare  heard  through  one 
of  the  managers,  whose  heart  is  very  much  in  the 
work,  1  am  led  to  believe  that  in  its  treatment  of 
drunkenness  it  has  discovered  and  is  using  the  only 
true  remedy  for  that  terrible  disease  which  no  medi- 


182  STRONG  DRINK; 

cine  for  the  body  can  ever  radically  cure.  Its  first 
work  is  to  draw  the  poor,  debased  and  degraded  ine- 
briate within  the  circle  of  a  well-ordered  and  cheerful 
home,  and  under  the  influence  of  kind  and  sympa- 
thetic friends.  All'  these  have  been  lost  to  him  for 
years ;  so  utterly  lost  that  all  hope  of  their  recovery 
has  died  in  his  heart.  He  is  a  stranger  to  gentle 
words  and  loving  smiles ; — used  only  to  rebuke  and 
blame ;  to  scorn  and  contempt ;  is  alike  despised  of 
himself  and  the  world.  But  here  he  finds  himself 
all  at  once  an  object  of  interest  and  care.  His  hand 
is  taken  in  a  clasp  so  warm  and  true  that  he  feels  the 
thrill  go  down  into  his  heart  and  awaken  old  memo- 
ries of  other  and  dearer  hand-clasps.  His  lost  man- 
hood and  sense  of  respect  are  found  again.  New 
purposes  are  formed  and  old  resolves — broken,  alas! 
so  many  times — renewed  once  more.  He  finds  him- 
self encircled  by  sustaining  influences  of  a  better 
character  than  he  has  known  in  many  years.  Hope 
and  confidence  grow  strong. 

"  But  in  lifting  the  fallen  man  to  this  state  of  life, 
the  Home  has  done  only  its  first  and  least  important 
work  of  reformation.  If  it  were  able  to  do  no  more, 
'  Failure*  would  ultimately  be  written  on  its  walls. 
It  is  organized  for  deeper  and  more  thorough  work- 
is,  in  fact,  a  Church  as  well  as  a  Home,  and  has  its 
chapel  and  its  formal  worship.  When  the  man  is 
restored  and  in  his  right  mind,  an  effort  is  made  to 
lead  him' in  to  the  conviction  that  in  and  of  himself 
he  cannot  successfully  resist  the  appetite  from  whose 


T1IE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE. 

shivery  ho  has  just  escaped.  That  only  in  the  Divine 
power  and  protection  is  there  any  hope  for  him,  and 
that  he  must  seek  this  Divine  power  and  protection 
through  prayer  and  a  living  and  obedient  faith  in 
Chri.st,  who  saves  to  the  uttermost  all  who  come  to 
Him  and  keep  His  sayings.  He  must  become  a  new 
man.  Must  be  saved  not  only  from  drunkenness, 
but  from  all  other  evils  of  life.  Must  become  sincere, 
and  humble,  and  just,  and  pure,  as  well  as  temperate. 
So  becoming  steadfast  and  immovable." 

A  light  had  kindled  in  Mr.  Stannard's  face.  Turn- 
ing to  me,  he  said :  "  There  is  hope  for  our  poor 
frk'iid.  He  may  yet  be  saved.  Is  there  not  a  provi- 
dence in  this  thing?" 

"  I  might  say  yes,  if  I  believed  in  special  provi- 
dences," I  returned. 

"  What  kind  of  a  providence  do  you  believe  in?" 
Mr.  Stan nard asked. 

"  In  a  general  overruling  providence,"  I  re- 
plied. 

"  Of  a  providence,  for  instance,  that  takes  care  of 
a  man's  whole  body,  but  not  of  his  eye,  or  ear,  or 
heart,  or  any  individual  fibre,  or  nerve,  or  organ  of 
which  his  body  is  composed.  That  takes  care  of  a 
nation,  but  not  of  the  individual  men  composing  that 
nation.  To  have  a  general  providence,  Mr.  Lyon, 
you  must  have  a  particular  providence ;  for  without 
particular!  you  cannot  have  that  which  is  general. 
Believe  me,  that  God's  care  is  over  you  and  me  and 
every  one,  specially  and  at  all  times.  It  would  |>e 


184  STRONG  DRINK; 

no  providence  at  all  if  this  were  not  so.  Let  us  think 
of  it  as  round  about  us  continually,  and  that  if  it 
were  intermitted  for  a  single  moment,  we  would 
perish.  Let  us  think  of  it  as  the  infinite  Love  which 
is  forever  seeking  to  save  us,  and  forever  adapting 
the  means  to  this  eternal  end." 

"  You  think  more  deeply  about  these  things  than 
I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  and  may  be  nearer 
right  in  your  views  than  I  am  in  mine.  I  waive,  for 
the  present,  all  controversy  on  the  subject.  As  for 
Mr.  Granger,  let  us  get  him  into  this  Home,  and 
give  him  another  chance.  I  believe  in  the  church, 
and  in  the  power  of  God  to  save  men  from  their  sins. 
And  I  believe  more  in  this  Home,  from  what  I  have 
just  heard  of  it,  than  in  any  and  all  of  the  reformatory 
agencies  in  the  land." 

"  Because  it  is  a  church,  a  true  church,  seeking  to 
gather  poor  lost  and  abandoned  ones  into  the  fold  of 
Christ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  choose  to  give  that  form  to  the  propo- 
sition," I  replied. 

"Is  it  not  the  true  form  ?  Can  the  Church  have 
any  higher  mission  than  the  one  to  which  this  Home 
has  consecrated  itself?" 

"  None,"  was  my  answer.  "  And  yet  the  Church 
scarcely  reaches  out  its  hand  to  the  perishing 
inebriate.  Nay,  draws  back  from  him  her  spot- 
less garments,  and  leaves  him  to  perish  in  the 
mire  from  which  her  hands  might  have  raised 
him." 


THE  CURSE  AM>  THE  CURE. 

"  The  Church  learns  but  slowly,"  Mr.  Stannarcl 
replied,  speaking  with  a  shade  of  depression  in  his 
voice.  "  It  has  been  too  busy  with  creeds  and  hair- 
splitting differences  in  doctrine,  and  with  rituals,  and 
robes,  and  things  external,  to  give  itself  as  it  should 
to  charity.  A  better  day  is  not  far  distant,  I  hope, 
has  been  said,  the  Church  is  the  heart  and 
lungs  of  common  society,  and  if  society  is  terribly 
sed,  spiritually  as  well  as  morally,  is  not  the 
Church  at  fault  and  responsible?  A  healthy  heart 
and  healthy  lungs  should  make  a  healthy  body. 
Before  the  Church  can  heal  the  world  she  must  be 
healed  herself.  She  must  rise  into  the  perception  of 
higher  and  diviner  truths,  and  come  down  into  the 
world  with  a  more  living  power.  It  is  difficult  to 
tell  which  has  the  larger  influence  over  the  other  to- 
day, the  Church  or  the  world.  I  sometimes  fear  it  is 
the  world,  the  Church  is  so  pervaded  with  its  spirit, 
and  fashions,  and  ways  of  doing  things,  with  its 
pride  and  its  vanities.  But  here,  in  this  Home 
of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  we  have,  thank 
(ind,  the  beginning  of  a  real,  earnest,  working 
Church  that  knows  the  gospel  of  salvation,  and 
is  seeking  by  its  power  to  lift  up  the  fallen,  to 
the  broken-hearted,  and  to  set  the  captive 

Mr.  Stannard  had  warmed  as  he  spoke,  and  now 

there  was  a  glow  on  his  line  countenance.    So  inter- 

'.  had  we  all  become  in  the  Home  about  which 

we-  wen-  talking,  that  his  suggestion  that  we  should 


186  STRONG  DRINK; 

make  a  visit  an$  learn  for  ourselves  what  was  being 
done  there,  met  with  a  hearty  concurrence,  and  we 
started  at  once  to  see  and  make  ourselves  better 
acquainted  with  the  character  and  work  of  the  new 
Institution. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ON  the  day  following  I  met  Mr.  Stannard,  by 
agreement  "We  had  made  arrangements  for 
placing  Granger  in  the  new  Home  as  soon  as  we 
could  get  him  released,  and  thus  give  him  another 
opportunity  to  recover  himself.  All  my  interest  in 
the  man  was  reviving,  and  hope  gaining  strength 
every  moment.  Our  visit  to  the  Reformatory  Home 
had  been  most  satisfactory.  We  found  the  organi- 
zation far  more  perfect  than  we  had  anticipated,  see- 
ing that  the  Institution  was  yet  in  its  infancy.  After 
spending  an  hour  with  the  president,  who  happened 
to  be  there  when  we  called,  and  obtaining  from  him 
all  the  information  desired,  we  made  such  prelimi- 
nary arrangements  as  were  necessary  for  the  admis- 
sion of  Granger,  and  left  with  the  new  hope  for  the 
fallen  man,  we  were  about  making  an  attempt  to 
rescue,  growing  stronger  in  our  hearts  every  mo- 
ment 

Before  going  to  the  prison,  we  called  on  the  dis- 
trict attorney,  who,  on  learning  our  purpose,  gave  an 
order  for  Granger's  release,  saying,  as  he  did  so :  "  I 
\vi.~h,  gentlemen,  that  I  could  feel  as  hopeful  as  you 
seem  to  be  in  regard  to  the  result  But  I'm  afraid 
the  case  is  beyond  cure.  Poor  fellow !  Our  bar  lost 


138  STRONG  DRINK; 

one  of  its  brightest  representatives  in  his  fall.  He 
was  a  splendid  orator.  I  can  hear  his  voice,  now, 
ringing  out  in  some  of  his  grand  periods.  Ah,  if 
he  had  but  let  drink  alone !" 

"  If  men  would  only  take  warning  by  a  fall  like 
this,"  said  Mr.  Stannard. 

"  Few  fall  so  rapidly  or  so  low,"  returned  the  dis- 
trict attorney.  "  Some  men  are  weak  in  the  head 
where  liquor  is  concerned,  while  others  can  drink 
on  to  the  end,  always  maintaining  a  due  modera- 
tion." 

"  And  every  man  who  drinks  believes  that  he  can 
always  hold  himself  to  this  due  moderation." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  case  with  most  men ;  but  a  few 
get  over  the  line  before  becoming  aware  that  they 
have  touched  it." 

"  To  find,  like  the  too  venturesome  bather  when 
struck  by  the  undertow,  that  return  is  next  to  im- 
possible." 

We  went  from  the  district  attorney's  office  direct 
to  the  prison,  and  were  taken  to  the  cell  where 
Granger  was  confined.  He  was  lying  on  his  bed, 
apparently  sleeping,  but  moved  and  turned  towards 
us  as  we  entered.  At  first  I  though  there  had  been 
a  mistake.  Could  that  wasted,  haggard  face,  and 
those  large,  deep-set,  dreary  eyes  be  the  face  and 
eyes  of  Alexander  Granger  ?  It  seemed  impossible. 
But  he  had  recognized  us  at  a  glance,  as  I  saw  by 
the  quick  changes  in  his  countenance,  and  made  an 
effort  to  rise ;  but  sunk  back  weakly  on  his  hard 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

•,  a   feeble   moan   coming   at  the  same  time 
through  his  lips. 

[y  poor,  unhappy  friend !"  I  said,  in  a  voice  of 
tender  sympathy,  as  I  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  took 
one  of  his  hands  in  mine. 

All  the  muscles  of  his  face  began  to  twitch  and 
quiver.  He  shut  his  eyes  closely,  but  could  not 
hold  back  the  shining  drops  that  were  already 
passing  through  the  trembling  lashes. 

I  waited  a  little  while  before  speaking  again,  but 
kept  tightly  hold  of  his  hand. 

"  Sick  and  in  prison.  My  poor  friend  I"  letting 
my  voice  fall  to  a  lower  and  tenderer  expression. 

He  caught  his  breath  with  a  sob.  Tears  fell  over 
his  cheeks.  All  the  muscles  of  his  face  were  shaking. 
1  waited  until  the  paroxysm  was  over.  How  weak 
mid  wasted  he  was !  As  I  looked  at  him,  my  heart 
grew  heavy  with  compassion. 

"  There  is  still  a  chance  for  you,  Mr.  Granger," 
1  I,  putting  hope  and  confidence  in  my  voice. 

There  was  no  response ;  not  even  a  faint  gleam 
on  his  wretched  face. 

44  Will  you  not  try  again?" 

"  It  won't  be  of  any  use,  Mr.  Lyon.  It's  very 
good  of  you ;  but  it  won't  be  of  any  use."  He  spoke 
feebly  and  mournfully,  moving  his  head  slowly  from 
side  to  side. 

"  It  will  be  of  use.  I  am  sure  that  it  will,"  I  said, 
with  still  more  confidence. 

44  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Mr.  Lyon." 


190  STRONG  DRINK; 

His  voice  had  gained  a  steadier  tone ;  but  its  utter 
hopelessness  was  painful. 

"  Here  is  Mr.  Stannard,"  I  said.  "  You  remember 
him." 

"  Yes.  It's  very  good  of  you,  gentlemen.  But 
I  don't  deserve  your  kindness." 

"  We  are  here  as  your  friends,"  said  Mr.  Stannard, 
coming  close  to  the  bed.  "  We  are  going  to  help 
you  to  get  upon  your  feet  again,  and  to  become  a 
new  man." 

He  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"I've  done  trying.  What's  the  use  of  a  man 
attempting  to  climb  a  hill  when  he  knows  that  his 
strength  must  give  out  before  he  reaches  the  top, 
and  that  he  will  get  bruised  and  broken  in  the  inev- 
itable fall.  Better  die  in  the  ditch  at  the  bottom,  as 
I  shall  die." 

He  had  raised  himself  a  little,  and  was  leaning 
on  his  arm. 

"  You  have  been  sick,"  said  I,  wishing  to  take  his 
mind  away  from  the  thought  which  was  then  hold- 
ing it. 

"Yes,  worse  than  sick.  I've  been  in  hell  and 
among  devils." 

"  But  have  escaped  with  your  life." 

"I'm  not  so  sure.  It's  about  over  with  me,  I 
guess.  You  see  there's  not  much  left  to  go  and 
come  on." 

He  held  up  one  of  his  thin,  almost  transparent 
hands,  but  could  not  keep  it  steady. 


1  Yes,  worse  than  sick,  I've  been  In  hell  and  among  devils." — Page  190. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

"  Don't  say  that  There's  to  be  a  new  life  within 
and  without." 

"  Not  for  me.  Not  for  Alexander  Granger.  Do 
you  know  what  I  am  here  for?"  A  dark  cloud  fall- 
ing on  his  face.  "  For  stealing ! — for  petty  larceny! 
You  see  it's  all  over  with  me.  The  very  shame  of 
the  thing  is  burning  my  life  out.  A  thief  I  No,  no, 
gentlemen.  Even  if  I  were  able  to  stand  against 
appetite,  I  could  not  bear  up  under  a  disgrace 
like  this." 

"It  was  not  Alexander  Granger  who  committed 
this  crime,"  answered  Mr.  Stannard,  "  but  the  in- 
satiate demon  who  had  enslaved  him  and  made  him 
subject  to  his  will.  Let  us  cast  out  this  demon  and 
give  the  true,  generous-hearted,  honorable  man  back 
to  himself  and  society  again.  It  is  for  this  that  we 
are  here,  Mr.  Granger." 

I  Ie  shook  his  head.  "  If,  in  the  full  vigor  of  man- 
lux  xl,  I  was  not  able  to  overcome  and  cast  out  this 

n,  what  hope  is  there  now?'  It  were  folly  to 
make  the  effort.  No,  no,  gentlemen.  I  give  up  the 
strui:i:li>.  All  that  is  worth  living  for  is  gone.  An 
utterly  disgraced  and  degraded  man,  what  is  left  for 
me  but  to  die  and  be  forgotten?  And  I  shall  be 

r  here,  dying  sober,  than  in  the  gutter  or  the 
station-house,  dying  drunk." 

II  is  voice  trembled,  and  then  broke  in  a  repressed 
sob. 

"  There  is  One  who  can  and  who'will  save  you, 
even  from  the  power  of  this  strong  appetite  which 


192  STRONG  DRINK; 

has  so  cursed  you,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Stannard, 
speaking  with'  a  gentle  persuasion  in  his  tones,  and 
at  the  same  time  laying  his  hand  softly  on  Granger's 
head.  "He  is  very  near  to  you  now — a  loving 
Shepherd  seeking  for  His  lost  sheep  in  the  desolate 
wilderness,  where  it  is  ready  to  perish." 

Then,  kneeling,  with,  his  hand  still  on  Granger's 
head,  he  prayed  in  a  low,  hushed  voice : 

"Loving  Father,  tender  Shepherd.  This  Thy 
poor  wandering  sheep  is  hungry  and  faint  and  ready 
to  die.  His  flesh  has  been  torn  by  the  thorn  and 
bramble;  the  wild  beast  has  been  after  him,  and 
the  poison  of  serpents  is  in  his  blood.  No  help  is 
left  but  in  Thee,  and  unless  Thy  strong  arm  save 
him  he  will  surely  perish.  Draw  his  heart  toward 
Thee.  Give  him  to  feel  that  in  Thee  alone  is  hope 
and  safety.  In  his  helplessness  and  despair,  let  faith 
and  trust  be  quickened.  Thou  canst  save  him  from 
the  power  of  this  demon  of  drink.  Thou  canst  set 
him  in  a  safe  way,  and  keep  him  from  falling  again. 
Give  him  to  feel  this  great  truth,  that  if  he  cast 
himself  at  Thy  feet  and  cry  from  his  sick  and  faint- 
ing heart, '  Save  me,  Lord !'  Thou  wilt  hear  and  save." 

Can  I  ever  forget  the  almost  despairing  cry  for 
help  that  was  in  Granger's  voice  as  he  repeated  the 
words,  "  Save  me,  Lord !"  throwing  his  hands  above 
his  head  as  he  spoke,  and  lifting  his  eyes  upwards  ? 
A  strange  thrill  ran  along  my  nerves. 

(f  He  will  save  you,"  said  Mr.  Stannard,  as  he  rose 
from  his  knees.  "  Trust  in  Him,  and  He  will  give 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'llE.  193 

you  strength  to  overcome  all  your  enemies.  Though 
your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  He  will  make  them  white  as 
wool.  They  that  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as 
Mount  Zion  which  cannot  be  removed,  but  abideth 
forever.  As  the  mountains  are  round  about  Jeru- 
salem, so  the  Lord  is  round  about  His  people." 

I  saw  a  change  in  Granger's  face.  It  was  grow- 
ing calmer  and  stronger. 

"  There  is  a  new  life  before  you,  my  friend ;  and 
if  you  will  look  to  God,  and  trust  Him,  and  keep 
words,  you  can  live  that  life  in  safety.  Will 
you  try?" 

"  If  I  thought  there  was  any  use  in  trying.  But 
what  can  I  do  ?  Where  can  I  go  ?" 

There  was  a  pleading  expression  hi  look  and  voice. 

"Will  you  try?" 

"  Yes,  God  helping  me."  He  spoke  with  a  kind 
of  trembling  earnestness. 

"  We  have  a  carriage  outside,"  I  said.  You  will 
go  with  us?" 

"  I  low  can  I  go?     I'm  a  prisoner." 

"A  prisoner  no  longer.  We  have  brought  you  a 
release." 

"  Is  this  only  a  dream?"  he  said,  looking  at  us 
with  a  gathering  doubt  in  his  face.  "  But  I  am  sick 
;m<l  weak.  I  cannot  walk.  I  can  scarcely  stand. 
I  am  not  fit  to  go  anywhere." 

lie  was  taken  to  the  carriage  we  had  in  waiting, 
supported  by  two  of  the  keepers.  But  few  words 
as  we  drove  into  the  city  and  over  the  rattling 
13 


194  STRONG  DRINK; 

streets  to  the  institution  where  we  had  arranged  to 
place  him.  He  was  very  weak,  and  almost  in  a 
fainting  condition  when  we  reached  our  destination. 
Beyond  the  door  our  care  of  him  ceased ;  but  we 
left  money  to  procure  clean  clothing  with  which  to 
replace,  after  he  had  received  a  bath,  the  poor, 
tattered  and  unclean  garments  that  were  on  his 
person. 

"  If  this  fail,  all  fails,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Stannard,  as 
we  came  away. 

"  I  do  not  believe  it  will  fail,"  he  replied. 

"  I  would  gladly  share  your  confidence,  but  confess 
that  I  do  not.  The  influences  under  which  he  will 
now  come,  are,  I  can  see,  more  favorable  than  any 
that  have  heretofore  been  brought  to  bear  upon  him ; 
but  there  has  been  so  great  a  physical  and  moral 
deterioration  that  I  fear  he  can  never  get  back  the 
strength  required  for  safe  standing  and  sure  resist- 
ance. 

"  He  is  stronger,  in  my  opinion,  to-day  than  he 
has  been  at  any  time  in  the  last  ten  years." 

"  I  scarcely  see  the  ground  of  your  confidence," 
said  I. 

"  Stronger  because  all  faith  and  all  trust  in  himself 
are  dead.  He  had  given  up  the  struggle  when  we 
found  him  in  prison — given  up  to  die,  and  his  '  Save 
me,  Lord !'  came  from  the  depths  of  his  utter  despair. 
There  will  be  no  more  trust  in  himself,  I  think ;  no 
more  matching  of  his  weakness  against  the  giant 
strength  of  an  enemy  before  whose  lightest  blow  he 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  J95 

must  surely  fall.  But  a  complete  giving  of  himself 
into  the  care  and  protection  of  One  who  is  not  only 
mighty  to  save,  but  who  saves  to  the  uttermost  all 
who  come  unto  Him.  Herein  lies  the  ground  of  my 
confidence." 

"  In  such  a  giving  up,  Mr.  Stannard,  what  becomes 
of  the  manhood  ?  Is  it  wholly  lost  ?" 

"  It  is  in  this  surrender  of  ourselves  to  God  that 
a  higher  and  truer  manhood  is  born.  What  is  it  to 
be  a  true  man  ?  To  let  the  appetites  and  passions 
rule ;  or  the  reason,  which,  enlightened  from  above, 
can  see  and  determine  what  is  just,  and  pure,  and 
merciful.  Does  the  man  possess  himself  so  long 
as  he  lets  the  lower  things  of  his  nature  rule  over 
the  higher? — his  appetites  and  passions  over  his 
rational  ?  The  whole  order  of  man's  life  has  been 
reversed  by  sin.  He  has  turned  from  God  to  him- 
self, and  vainly  thinks  that  true  manhood  consists 
in  self-dependence  and  self-assertion ;  as  though  his 
inmost  life  were  his  own,  and  not  the  perpetual  gift 
of  God.  And  so  he  tries  to  get  as  far  away  from 

>d  as  possible,  and  to  make  a  new  life  for  himself; 
and  ILS  this  new  life  begins  in  self,  it  is  in  the  nature 
of  things,  a  selfish  life,  and  separates  him  from  God 

.-1  his  neighbor.  And  he  lives  this  life  down  in  the 
lower  regions  of  his  mind,  where  sensual  things 
reside — the  appetites,  the  passions  and  the  con- 
rii] licences.  Is  it  any  wonder  that,  so  living,  these 
sensual  things  should  gain  dominion  over  him — a 
dominion  that  nothing  short  of  Divine  power  can 


19(3  STEONG  DRINK; 

break  ?  Herein  lies  the  loss  of  true  manhood,  which 
can  only  be  restored  when  we  are  willing  to  sell  all 
that  we  have  of  self  in  order  to  buy  heavenly  treas- 
ures. Granger  is  not  going  to  lose,  but  gain  his 
manhood." 

"Ah,  what  a  gain  that  would  be !"  I  felt  oppressed 
with  the  inflowing  pressure  of  new  thoughts.  I  was 
beginning  to  see,  dimly,  how  two  men  might  pray 
to  God  to  be  delivered  from  evil,  and  the  prayer  of 
one  be  answered,  while  that  of  the  other  proved  of 
no  avail.  Until  a  man  is  ready  to  give  up  his 
selfish  life,  and  turn  wholly  from  the  evil  of  his 
ways,  how  can  God  help  him  to  live  the  new  and 
diviner  life  which  will  give  him  power  to  hold  all 
the  appetites  and  passions  of  his  nature  in  due 
subjection  and  control.  I  saw  for  the  first  time  an 
exact  parallelism  between  spiritual  and  natural 
things.  A  vessel  must  be  emptied  of  one  substance 
before  it  can  be  filled  with  another.  So  must  a  soul 
be  emptied  of  evil  and  selfishness  before  it  can  be 
filled  with  love  to  God  and  the  neighbor.  There 
must  be  poverty  of  spirit  before  the  riches  of  Divine 
grace  can  be  given.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit : 
for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven."  The  text 
flashed  upon  me  with  a  new  and  deeper  meaning 
than  it  had  ever  before  brought  to  my.  mind. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ON  the  following  day  I  went  to  see  Granger  at 
the  Reformatory  Home.     I  found  him  in  a 
clean,  well-furnished  and  cheerful  room.     He  was 
in  bed,  looking  very  pale ;  but  his  eyes  were  clear 
and  bright,  and  he  welcomed  me  with  a  smile  that 
played  softly  over  his  wasted  features,  and  gave 
them  a  touch  of  their  old  fine  quality.    A  book  lay 
open  on  the  bed.     I  saw  that  it  was  a  copy  of  the 
Testament.     His  manner  was  very  subdued, 
and  he  did  not  speak  until  after  I  was  seated ;  and 
then  not  until  I  had  asked  how  he  was  feeling. 
ni-wi  r  almost  gave  me  a  start,  it  was  so  uii- 
•cted.     He  spoke  in  a  low  but  even  voice. 
"  .Vs  if  I  were  standing  just  inside  the  gate  of 

ven." 

I  waited  for  a  few  moments  before  replying,  for  I 
scarcely  knew  what  to  say ;  then  remarked  :  "  I  am 
glad  you  feel  so  comfortable.  This  is  better  than 
the  station-house  or  the  prison." 

The  light  went  out  of  his  face,  but  came  back 
quickly. 

"  T>ut  for  you,  my  kind  friend,  I  should  now  be 
dying  in  the  cell   from  which  you  and  good  -Mr. 
brought  me  ycsu-nlay.     It  was  <i<»l  who 

197 


198  STRONG  DRINK; 

sent  you ;  and  it  seems  as  if  I  shall  never  be  done 
thanking  Him.  My  poor  heart  broke  all  down  when 
Mr.  Stannard  prayed  for  me.  It  seemed  as  if  God 
were  all  at  once  bending  right  over  me,  and  when  I 
cried  out  to  Him  in  my  helplessness,  I  had  a  feeling 
as  if  His  arms  were  reached  out  and  I  taken  into 
them.  And  I  believe  it  was  so." 

"  May  they  ever  be  round  about  you,"  I  replied, 
scarcely  able  to  keep  my  voice  steady,  for  I  was  not 
prepared  for  this,  and  it  affected  me  strangely. 

"  Nothing  less  can  save  me  from  the  assaults  of 
my  enemy,"  he  said,  his  countenance  growing  more 
serious. 

I  remained  with  him  for  half  an  hour,  and  when 
I  left,  my  confidence  in  this  new  effort  at  reforma- 
tion was  greatly  increased.  An  incident  of  the  visit 
gave  me  large  encouragement.  As  I  sat  talking  with 
him  there  came  a  rap  on  the  door,  and  then  a  lady, 
in  company  with  the  matron  of  the  Institution,  en- 
tered. I  knew  her  well  by  sight.  She  was  related 
to  a  family  of  high  social  standing ;  and  while  a 
woman  of  refinement  and  intelligence,  and  an  orna- 
ment to  the  circle  in  which  she  moved,  was  largely 
given  to  good  works.  Her  hand  as  well  as  her  heart 
were  in  many  charities.  She  had  often  met  Mr. 
Granger  and  his  wife  in  their  better  days,  and  was 
among  those  who  had  been  deeply  pained  at  his 
downfall.  A  member  of  the  Auxiliary  Board  of 
Lady  Managers,  she  had  learned  on  her  visit  to  the 
Home  that  Mr.  Granger  was  there,  and  all  her  in- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  199 

terest  was  at  once  awakened.  To  save  him  and 
restore  him  to  his  family  and  society,  was  something 
to  be  hoped  for,  and  prayed  for,  and  worked  for ; 
and  she  lost  no  time  in  seeing  him,  and  letting  him 
it vl  the  warmth  of  her  interest  in  his  welfare. 

I  was  talking  with  Granger,  as  just  said,  when 
this  lady,  whom  I  will  call  Mrs.  Ellis,  entered  his 
neat  little  chamber.  He  knew  her,  of  course,  and  I 
saw  a  slight  tinge  of  color  steal  over  his  pale  face  as 
she  came  to  the  bedside. 

"  I  am  right  glad  to  see  you  here,  Mr.  Granger," 
she  said,  with  an  interest  so  genuine  that  it  affected  me. 

"  And  I  am  glad  to  be  here,  Mrs.  Ellis,"  he  re- 
plied, in  a  voice  subdued  but  earnest.  "  It  is  like 
coming  out  of  hell  into  Heaven." 

"  May  it  indeed  be  as  the  gate  of  Heaven  to  your 
soul,"  she  responded.  "  If  that  be  so,  all  will  be 
well  with  you  again.  And  I  pray  for  you  that  it 
may  be  so.  Only  look  to  the  blessed  Saviour  and 
trust  in  Him,  and  you  shall  be  as  Mount  Zion,  which 
cannot  be  removed." 

She  remained  only  for  a  few  minutes,  but  said  as 
she  was  going  out:  "  You  are  now  among  true  friends, 
Mr.  Granger,  and  they  will  do  everything  in  tlirir 
power  to  help  you.  Take  heart ;  it  is  all  going  to 
i-uine  out  right  again." 

lie  was  much  affected  by  this  brief  visit,  and  after 
Mrs.  Ellis  had  left  the  room  said,  in  a  half-wonder- 
ing tone  of  voice:  "I  can  hardly  uiuk'rstand  it  all. 
What  Ls  she  doing  here?" 


200  STRONG  DRINK; 

I  explained  to  him  that  she  was  one  of  the  Lady 
Managers  of  the  Institution,  through  whose  constant 
care  and  supervision  the  highest  comfort  of  the  in- 
mates was  secured.  That  the  presence  of  these  ladies 
in  the  Home,  as  visitors  and  supervisors,  enabled 
them  to  gain  an  influence  with  the  inmates  that  was 
very  helpful.  They  made  themselves  acquainted,  as 
far  as  possible,  with  the  nature  of  their  domestic  re- 
lations, if  they  had  families,  and  i£  their  families 
were  in  destitute  circumstances,  visited  them  and  did 
whatever  lay  in  their  power  to  help  them.  Many 
desolate  homes  had  already  been  made  bright  and 
happy  through  their  agency. 

Granger  listened  with  half-closed  lids  while  I 
spoke  of  all  this.  A  deep  sigh*  was  his  only  response 
when  I  ceased  speaking.  His  thoughts  had  evidently 
drifted  out  of  the  room  in  which  he  was  lying,  and 
gone  far  away  from  the  Home.  I  did  not  break  the 
spell  of  thought  that  was  upon  him,  but  waited  until 
he  came  back  to  himself  again. 

"  It  seems  still  as  if  I  were  only  dreaming,"  he 
said,  lifting  his  eyes  at  length  and  looking  at  me  with 
a  kind  of  wistful  earnestness.  "As  if  I  would  awaken 
at  any  moment  into  the  old,  dreadful  life." 

"  You  may  dream  this  dream  to  the  end  if  you 
will,"  I  replied. 

"  God  keep  me  from  waking !"  He  gave  a  slight 
shiver  as  he  said  this. 

At  my  next  visit  I  found  Granger  well  enough  to 
be  down  stairs.  He  was  in  the  reading-room  talking 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  201 

with  an  intelligent-looking  man,  whose  face  I  recog- 
nized  as  one  with  which  I  was  familiar.  I  did  not 
at  first  know  this  man,  but  when  he  reached  out  his 
hand  and  called  me  by  name,  his  voice  brought  him 
to  my  recollection.  He  had  once  been  a  merchant, 
standing  at  the  head  of  a  firm  doing  a  large  busi- 
ness ;  but  wine,  the  mocker,  had  betrayed  him, 
ami  he  had  fallen  into  hopelessly  dissolute  habits. 
When  I  last  saw  him  he  was  staggering  on  the 
street.  • 

"  Why,  Lawrence !"  I  exclaimed,  in  pleased  sur- 
prise. "You  here?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  here,  friend  Lyon.  And  here  is  our 
old  friend  Granger.  You  remember  him." 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  taking  the  hand  of  Mr.  Gran- 
ger as  I  spoke,  who  gave  me  back  a  silent  pressure. 

I  looked  at  the  two  men,  wondering  at  the  change 
which  had  been  wrought  in  them;  noticing,  as  I 
have  hud  occasion  to  notice  many  times  since,  the 
quick  restoration  of  the  face,  after  drink  is  aban- 
doned, to  something  of  its  old,  true  character. 

We  sat  down  and  had  a  long  talk.  Mr.  Lawrence 
informed  me  that  he  had  been  there  about  five 
weeks,  and  was  now  holding  the  position  of  book- 
in  the  store  of  one  of  the  directors  of  the 
Home,  but  still  boarded  in  the  Institution,  as  he  felt 
that  he  needed  all  the  help  it  could  give  him.  He 
had  been  separated  lor  over  two  years  from  his  wile, 
who  was  now  living  in  a  distant  city;  but  lie  had 
already  written  to  her,  telling  the  good  news  of  his 


202  STRONG  DRINK; 

reformation,  and  of  his  purpose,  by  God's  help,  to 
keep  himself  forever  free  from  his  old  habits. 

"  And  here's  a  letter  from  her  that  I  received  to- 
day," he  said,  as  he  took  an  envelope  from  his  pocket, 
•with  an  almost  child-like  exhibition  of  pleasure. 
"  And  she  writes  that  she'll  be  here  in  two  weeks. 
She  was  always  so  good  and  so  true,  and  she  stayed 
by  me  until  it  was  of  no  use.  Poor  Helen !" 

I  did  not  wonder  at  the  dimness  that  came  over 
his  eyes ;  nor  at  the  break  and  gurgle  in  his  voice. 

"  But  it  shall  never  so  be  again,"  he  went  on, 
after  a  little  pause.  "  I  trusted  in  myself,  and  did 
not  care  for  God.  He  was  never  hi  my  thoughts. 
But  I  have  found  a  better  way  since  I  came  here, 
and  One  who  will  keep  me  in  that  way  if  I  look  to 
Him — walking  always  by  my  side.  So  long  as  I 
put  my  trust  in  Him,  I  shall  be  safe,  but  not  for  a 
moment  longer." 

I  was  looking  at  Granger,  and  saw  that  his  gaze 
was  fixed  intently  on  Mr.  Lawrence.  His  eyes  were 
a  little  dilated  and  there  was  a  shade  of  sadness  oil 
his  countenance.  He  did  not  take  any  part  in  the 
conversation.  When  an  opportunity  came  for  us  to 
be  alone,  and  I  could  ask  more  particularly  about 
him,  his  manner  changed  and  brightened ;  but  was 
more  subdued  than  on  the  occasion  of  my  previous 
visit. 

"  You  are  looking  so  much  better,"  I  said,  "  and 
are  feeling,  of  course,  as  well  as  you  look." 

"  I  hope  so,"  he  answered,  quietly.     Then,  after 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cmi:.  203 

a  slight  ]);iuse:  "If  one  could  only  stop  tliinking 
i.'times." 

"  Right  tli inking  is  the  way  to  right  acting,"  I 
replied,  speaking  in  an  aphorism,  because  I  was  not 
sure  as  to  what  was  in  his  thought,  nor  how  my 
Miight  be  taken. 

"  If  it  were  as  easy  to  do  right  as  to  think  right, 
living  in  this  world  would  be  safer  than  it  is.  But 
that  is  not  what  I  meant  It  is  the  trouble  of  un- 
availing thought  to  which  I  refer.  Ah!  if  I  could 
only  stop  this  kind  of  thinking  for  awhile.  If  I 
could  only  bury  the  past  out  of  sight !" 

"  If  your  future  be  as  the  verdure  of  spring  and 
the  fruitfuluess  of  summer,  the  past  will  ere  long  be 
covered,  as  the  earth  after  a  desolate  winter  is  covered 
with  greenness  and  beauty.  The  influx  of  life  into 
what  is  orderly  and  good  is  quick  and  strong.  You 
are  already  beginning  to  feel  this  influx,  my  friend. 
.May  it  have  steady  increase." 

A  man  came  into  the  room  where  we  sat  convers- 
ing, and,  after  taking  a  book  from  the  library,  went 
out  I  noticed  that  he  had  an  intelligent  face,  and 
an  air  of  refinement,  but  looked  wasted  and  broken 
as  though  just  risen  from  a  severe  illness. 

"  That  is  Dr.  11 ,"  said  Granger.  "  He  had 

a  large  practice  in  our  city  a  few  years  ago,  but  lost 
it  on  account  of  intemperance.  His  family  was 
broken  up  at  last — wife  and  children  being  com- 
prlU-d  to  leave  him.  This  breaking  up  of  his  family 
and  separation  from  his  wife  and  children  so  atiected 


204  STRONG  DRINK; 

him  that  he  quit  drinking  and  started  off  for  a 
western  city,  in  order  to  get  away  from  old  associa- 
tions, there  to  begin  life  anew,  and  make  for  his 
family  another  home  into  which  the  old  blight  and 
curse  should  never  come.  But  this  change  did  not 
take  him  out  of  the  sphere  of  temptation,  nor  dimin- 
ish the  strength  of  his  appetite.  He  fought  allure- 
ment and  desire  for  awhile,  and  then  yielded,  little 
by  little  at  a  time,  still  fighting,  but  steadily  losing 
the  power  to  resist,  until  he  was  down  again.  That 
was  five  years  ago.  Falling  and  rising ;  now  strug- 
gling for  the  mastery  over  his  appetite,  and  now  in 
its  toils  again ;  now  taking  his  place  in  respectable 
society,  and  now  rejected  and  despised;  never  stand- 
ing firm  for  longer  than  a  few  months  at  a  time — 
the  years  since  then  have  passed.  Two  weeks  ago 
he  came  drifting  back  to  his  native  city,  a  poor, 
helpless,  broken  wreck,  with  a  vague  impression  on 
his  mind  that  he  was  being  impelled  hither  by  a 
force  he  could  not  resist.  He  came,  as  a  drifting 
wreck,  wholly  purposeless.  Let  me  tell  you  the 
story  of  what  followed,  just  as  he  told  it  to  me.  I 
give  you  his  own  words  as  near  as  I  can  remember 
them.  He  said : 

" '  A  man  in  Pittsburg,  to  whom  I  told  a  plausible 
story,  in  which  was  not  a  single  word  of  truth,  got 
a  pass  for  me  on  the  railroad  to  this  city,  and  gave 
me  two  dollars  with  which  to  get  something  to  eat 
on  the  way.  The  first  thing  I  did,  after  parting 
from  him,  was  to  buy  a  bottle  of  whisky.  With  this 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CUIIK.  205 

as  my  companion,  I  took  my  seat  in  the  second-class 
car  to  which  my  pass  assigned  me  and  started  on  my 
journey  eastward.  The  bottle  was  empty  before  half 
the  distance  had  been  made.  It  was  filled  at  one  of 
the  stopping  places,  and  emptied  again  before  the 
trip  was  completed.  So  drunk  that  I  could  not 
walk  steadily,  I  was  thrust  out  of  the  car  by  a  break- 
man  on  the  arrival  of  the  train  at  midnight,  and  sent 
into  the  street  homeless  and  friendless.  I  still  had 
forty  cents  in  my  pocket,  and  might  have  procured 
a  night's  lodging,  but  I  preferred  the  station-house 
to  a  comfortable  bed,  in  order  that  I  might  have  the 
means  of  getting  my  drink  in  the  morning.  When 
morning  came,  I  made  a  narrow  escape  from  a  com- 
mitment to  the  county  prison  for  drunkenness  and 
vagrancy,  but  got  off  with  a  reprimand  and  a  warn- 
ing. At  a  cheap  restaurant  I  spent  fifteen  cents  for 
a  breakfast,  and  ten  cents  for  something  to  wash  it 
down.  In  less  than  an  hour  afterwards  the  remain- 
ing fifteen  cents  had  disappeared,  and  I  was  the 

»^  for  three  glasses  of  bad  whisky. 
" '  Aimless  and  miserable,  I  wandered  about  for 
the  whole  of  that  day ;  spending  the  greater  part  of 
my  time  in  bar-rooms,  in  the  hope  of  being  asked  l»y 
somebody  to  drink.  My  thirst  was  growing  intense. 
I  was  beginning  to  feel  desperate.  Late  in  the  af't<  r- 
noon  I  went  into  a  saloon  and  going  up  to  the  bar, 
called  lor  a  glass  of  whisky,  making  a  motion  with 
my  hand  as  it'  I  were  going  to  take  money  from  my 
pocket.  The  bar-keeper  eyed  me  sharply  for  a  mo- 


206  STRONG  DRINK: 

raent  or  two,  and  then  gave  me  the  liquor  for  which 
I  had  called.  It  was  at  my  mouth  and  down  my 
throat  with  the  quickness  of  a  flash.  I  knew  by  the 
man's  face  that  he  would  kick  me  out  of  the  saloon, 
but  what  cared  I  for  that !  My  fumbling  in  my 
pockets,  and  turning  them  inside  out,  and  my  call- 
ing on  God  to  witness  that  I  had  money  when  I 
came  in,  did  not  save  me.  I  was  collared  and 
dragged  to  the  door,  and  then  kicked  into  the  street. 
As  I  fell  on  the  pavement,  a  crowd  of  boys  jeered 
me,  and  when  I  attempted  to  rise,  pushed  me  over. 
A  friendly  policeman  saved  me  from  their  farther 
persecutions. 

"  '  I  was  not  drunk.  The  glass  of  whisky  which 
I  had  taken  did  nothing  more  than  give  a  little 
steadiness  to  my  nerves.  As  I  arose  from  the  pave- 
ment, assisted  by  the  policeman,  I  saw  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street  a  face  that  made  my  heart  stand 
still.  A  young  girl  had  stopped,  and  was  looking 
across  at  me  with  a  half-startled,  half-pitiful  expres- 
sion. It  was  my  own  daughter,  whom  I  had  not 
seen  for  five  years.  A  little  girl  of  twelve  when  I 
last  saw  her,  she  was  now  a  tall  and  beautiful  young 
lady  in  her  eighteenth  year.  Her  dress  was  plain, 
but  very  neat,  and  she  looked  as  if  she  might  be  on 
her  way  home  from  some  store,  or  office,  or  manu- 
factory, in  which  she  was  earning  a  livelihood. 
Scarcely  had  I  recognized  her,  ere  she  turned  and 
went  on  her  way.  But  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  not 
let  her  go  out  of  my  sight.  As  though  some  strong 


TllK  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  207 

invisible  chords  were  drawing  me,  I  started  after 

!;<•< -pin£  so  close  that  her  form  was  always  in 
view.  So  I  followed,  now  within  a  few  paces,  and 

further  behind,  lest  she  might  turn  and  recog- 

nic,  until  we  had  gone  for  a  distance, of  seven 
or  eight  blocks.  Then  she  passed  lightly  up  to  the 
door  of  a  house,  and  after  ringing  the  bell,  turned 
her  face  while  she  stood  waiting,  so  that  I  could  see 

i in.  It  came  to  me  like  a  gleam  of  sunlight. 
But  in  a  moment  after  the  sweet  vision  was  gone, 
ami  I  stood  in  outer  darkness. 

" '  I  lingered  about  the  neighborhood  until  the 
fast  failing  twilight  was  gone.  Night  shut  in  ;  the 
lamps  were  lighted,  and  the  hurrying  sound  of  home- 
ward feet  became  almost  silent.  And  still  I  lingered. 
Inside  were,  I  believed,  the  wife  and  children  I  had 
once  so  loved  and  tenderly  cared  for ;  and  I  stood  on 
the  outside,  an  alien  to  the  love  which  had  once 
been  given  me  in  lavish  return.  Twice  I  ascended 
the  steps  and  laid  my  hand  on  the  bell,  but  turned 
i  acli  time  and  went  back  without  ringing  it.  I  will 
go  away,  I  said,  and  make  myself  more  fitted  to 
come  into  their  presence.  But  where  was  I  to  go  ? 

iidless  and  penniless,  soiled  and  tattered,  who 
would  take  me  in?  And  then  there  rushed  upon 

'icli  an  overwhelming  sense  of  helplessness  :m<l 
<lt-urra<lation,  and  of  the  utter  folly  of  any  new  at- 
tempt to  lr;i<l  a  bettor  lift-,  that  the  very  blackness 
of  despair  came  down  upon  my  soul  I  Better  die! 

a  voice  within  me.  ie  chances  of 


208  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  life  to  come  than  the  certain  misery  of  this. 
God  is  more  merciful  than  man.  I  hearkened 
to  this  voice.  A  single  plunge  in  the  river,  and  all 
would  be  over.  I  felt  the  waters  closing  about  me, 
and  the  rest  and  peace  of  their  dark  oblivious  depths. 
I  was  sitting  on  the  curb-stone  with  my  face  buried 
in  my  hands,  when  this  purpose  was  reached,  and 
was  about  rising  to  put  it  into  execution,  when  a 
hand  was  laid  on  my  shoulder,  and  a  voice,  whose 
tones  sent  a  thrill  through  me,  said :  "  You  seem  to 
be  in  trouble,  my  friend."  It  was  the  voice  of  a  man 
whose  family  physician  I  had  been  more  than  ten 
years  before,  and  its  sound  was  as  familiar  to  my 
ears  as  if  no  time  had  intervened  since  I  heard  it 
last.  I  could  not  move.  A  great  weight  seemed 
holding  me  down.  "Are  you  sick?"  The  voice 
was  even  kinder  than  at  first.  "  Yes,"  I  replied. 
"  Sick  with  an  incurable  disease." 

" '  He  did  not  speak  again  for  several  moments. 
Then  he  said,  in  a  voice  full  of  mingled  compassion 

and  surprise ;  "Dr.  R !  Can  it  indeed  be  you  ?" 

"  All  that  is  left  of  me,"  I  returned,  not  looking  up 
or  attempting  to  rise.  "  Sick,  but  not  with  an  in- 
curable disease,  Dr.  II ,"  he  said,  after  a  brief 

pause.  "There  is  a  Physician  who  can  cure  all 
manner  of  sickness.  He  can  make  the  lame  walk, 
the  deaf  hear,  the  blind  see,  and  bring  even  the 
dead  to  life.  Come  to  this  good  Physician,  my  old 
friend,  and  be  healed  of  your  malady." 

" '  How  strange  and  new  this  sounded — almost  as 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE  200 

much  so  as  if  I  had  never  before  heard  of  this  Phy- 
Firian ;  and  in  fact,  so  far  as  any  conscious  need  of 
Him  was  concerned,  I  never  had.  Sickness  of  the 
soul  and  the  healing  of  spiritual  diseases  had  been 
to  me  little  more  than  figures  of  speech ;  and  my 
Mca  of  a  Physician  of  souls  had  rarely  lifted  itself 
al>i>ve  the  thought  of  a  vague  symbolism  that  might 
mi  -an  anything  or  nothing.  But  now  there  was  in 
it  something  tangible ;  the  impression  of  a  real  per- 
sonality; and  my  poor,  despairing  heart  began  to 
turn  and  lift  itself,  and  to  feel  in  its  dead  hopes  the 
fet-Me  motions  of  a  new  life.  And  when  he  said 
again,  "  Come,  my  old  friend,  come  to  this  good 
Physician,"  and  drew  upon  my  arm,  I  got  up  from 
the  curb-stone  on  which  I  was  sitting,  and  stood 
rini;  and  trembling  in  my  shame  and  weakness, 
dimly  wondering  as  to  how  and  where  this  Physician 
was  to  be  found.  "  And  now,  doctor,"  he  said,  "  do 
you  really  wish  to  be  saved  from  the  power  of  this 
dreadful  appetite?"  "I  would  rather  drown  myself 
than  continue  any  longer  in  this  awful  bondage,"  I 
replied. 

" '  And  then  I  told  him  how  I  had  made  up  my 
mind   to  gain   deliverance  through   the   desperate 
means  of  suicide.     "  My  poor  friend,"  he  ansu 
"  there  is  a  safer  and  better  way.     Come  with  me." 

"  '  1  did  not  hesitate,  but  went  with  him.      A 
walked,  In-  told  me  of  this  Christian  Home,  and  said 
that  it'  1  would  enter  it  and  make  use  of  all  the 
means  of  reformation  to  which  it  would  introduce 
14 


210  STRONG  DRINK; 

me,  I  might  hope  to  be  restored  to  myself,  and  gain 
such  power  over  my  appetite  as  to  hold  it  forever  in 
check.  And  here  I  am,  with  new  hopes  and  new 
purposes,  and  a  trust  in  God  for  deliverance  and 
safety,  that  my  heart  and  my  reason  tell  me  shall 
not  be  in  vain/ ' 

After  Mr.  Granger  had  related  Dr.  R 's  story, 

he  said :  "  If  that  man  can  be  saved,  and  if  I  can  be 
saved,  through  trust  in  God,  no  one  is  so  fallen  that 
he  may  not  be  lifted  up,  and  his  feet  set  in  a  secure 
way."  Then,  after  a  slight  pause,  he  added,  in  a 
subdued  and  humble  voice :  "  But  in  and  of  myself 
I  cannot  hope  to  stand.  When  I  forget  that,  my 
imminent  peril  is  niprh." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  FTER  two  or  three  weeks,  the  change  in  Mr. 
3tjL  Granger's  appearance  was  so  great  that  I  found 
it  difficult  to  realize  the  fact  that  he  was  the  same 
man  whom  we  had,  a  little  while  before,  taken  from 
the  county  prison.  Nutritious  food  was  rapidly 
restoring  muscular  waste,  and  giving  tension  to 
shattered  nerves.  Sound  sleep  was  doing  its  good 
work  also.  While  above  all,  and  vital  to  all,  was  a 
new-born  trust  in  God,  and  a  submission  of  himself 
to  the  Divine  will  and  guidance. 

I  could  see  the  steady  growth  of  a  new  quality  in 
his  face;  the  expression  of  which  was  becoming 
softer,  yet  not  losing  the  strength  of  a  true  manli- 
ness. The  old,  confident  ring  did  not  come  back  to 
his  voice ;  though  it  gained  in  firmness,  and  you  felt 
in  its  tone  the  impulse  of  a  resolute  will. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  said  nothing  to  Granger 
about  his  wife  and  children,  nor  had  he  referred  to 
them ;  but  I  knew,  from  signs  not  to  be  mistaken, 
that  they  were  hardly  for  a  moment  absent  from  his 
thoughts ;  and  I  was  sure  that  his  hcurt  was  going 
out  to  them  with  irrepressible  yearnings.  It  could 
not  be  otherwise,  for  he  was  a  man  of  warm  aillr- 
tions. 

211 


212  STRONG  DRINK; 

Nor  had  I  said  anything  of  this  new  effort  at 
reformation  to  Mrs.  Granger,  whom  I  had  seen  twice 
since  she  told  me  of  her  husband's  visit  to  the  photo- 
graph rooms.  I  had  been  trying  ever  since  to  find 
another  place  for  Amy,  but  so  far  was  not  successful. 
Why  should  I  keep  the  good  news  away  from  her 
any  longer  ?  I  had  withheld  it  so  far,  in  fear  lest 
the  hope  and  joy  it  must  occasion  might  too  quickly 
be  dashed  to  the  ground.  But  now  I  was  beginning 
to  have  a  more  abiding  faith  in  this  last  struggle 
upon  which  Granger  had  entered ;  because  of  the 
new  and  higher  elements  of  strength  it  was  calling 
into  exercise. 

For  several  days  I  debated  the  question,  and  then 
dropped  a  note  to  Mrs.  Granger,  asking  her  to  call 
at  my  office.  She  came  promptly,  hoping  that  I  had 
succeeded  in  finding  a  situation  for  her  daughter.  I 
had  not  noticed  before  how  much  her  beautiful  hair 
had  changed.  It  was  thickly  sprinkled  with  gray. 
A  shadow  lay  in  her  large  brown  eyes,  which  had 
lost  much  of  their  former  depth  and  brightness. 
There  was  an  earnest,  expectant  manner  about  her 
as  she  came  forward.  I  saw  that  she  was  troubled 
and  anxious,  and  half-regretted  having  sent  for 
her,  not  knowing,  of  course,  how  she  might  be 
affected  by  the  information  I  was  about  to  commu- 
nicate. 

"Any  good  word  for  Amy  ?"  she  asked,  with  an 
effort  to  keep  her  voice  from  betraying  the  suspense 
from  which  she  was  suffering. 


THE  CURSE  AND  TIIE  CURE.  213 

'•  Nothing  certain,  as  yet,"  I  replied.  "  But  there's 
something  else  that  I  wish  to  talk  with  you  about." 

Her  large  eyes  widened  a  little.  She  asked  no 
question,  but  kept  her  gaze  fixed  upon  me. 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  from  Mr.  Granger 
since  Amy  was  at  the  photograph  rooms  ?" 

She  shook  her  head,  but  did  not  remove  her  eyes 
from  my  face. 

"  You  did  not  know  that  he  was  arrested  and 
sent  down  to  prison  ?" 

A  slight  negative  movement  of  the  head,  and  a 
close,  hard  shutting  of  the  lips. 

"I  heard  of  it,  and  went  with  a  friend  to  see 
him." 

A  start,  a  catching  of  the  breath,  and  a  receding 
color. 

"  I  think  he  must  have  died  within  twenty-four 
hours  if  we  had  not  taken  him  from  the  cell  in 
which  we  found  him.  Utterly  broken  down  in  body 
uinl  spirits,  he  had  given  up  in  despair." 

The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Granger  dropped  swiftly  from 
my  face.  I  saw  a  strong  shiver  run  through  her 
body.  Then  she  was  motionless  as  a  statue. 

"  Mr.  Stunnard  and  I  went  to  see  him,"  I  resumed. 
"  We  had  an  order  for  his  release,  and  took  him  to 
the  new  Reformatory  Home  in  Locust  Street,  where 
he  has  been  ever  since." 

Mrs.  Granger  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  me 
a  train.  No  li^lit  had  come  into  them.  It' anything, 
the  shadow  that  lay  over  them  was  deeper.  I  was 


214  STRONG  DRINK; 

disappointed  at  this  apparent  indifference,  and  at  her 
failure  to  ask  me  any  questions  in  regard  to  her 
husband. 

"Mr.  Stannard  and  I  feel  very  hopeful  about 
him." 

She  shook  her  head  in  a  dreary  way.  "  There  is 
no  hope,"  she  murmured,  in  a  dead  level  voice.  "  It 
was  kind  of  you  and  Mr.  Stannard,  and  you  meant 
well.  But  it  will  be  of  no  use.  If  you  had  brought 
me  word  that  he  was  dead,  I  would  have  felt  thank- 
ful to  know  that  his  helpless,  hopeless,  wretched  life 
was  over.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  say  this,  Mr.  Lyon, 
but  I  can  say  nothing  less.  He  is  in  the  hands  of  a 
demon  whose  strength,  as  compared  with  his,  is  as 
that  of  a  giant  to  a  new-born  infant." 

"  Is  not  God  stronger  than  any  devil  ?"  I  asked, 
speaking  with  quiet  earnestness. 

There  was  another  quick,  half-wondering  dilation 
of  her  large  eyes,  and  a  swift  change  in  her  counte- 
nance. She  waited  for  me  to  go  on. 

"  There  is  no  sin  from  which  God  cannot  save  a 
man,"  said  I. 

"  Except,  I  have  sometimes  thought,  the  sin  of 
drunkenness ;  it  so  utterly  degrades  and  destroys  the 
soul.  It  seems  to  leave  nothing  upon  which  men, 
or  angels,  or  even  God  Himself  can  take  hold." 

She  spoke  with  some  bitterness,  but  with  more  of 
doubt  and  sorrow  in  her  voice. 

"  Many  men,"  I  replied,  "  who  had  fallen  quite  as 
low  as  Mr.  Granger,  have  been  saved  from  this 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CITJ:.  215 

liul  sin  and  curse  by  means  of  the  Institution 
win -re  we  have  placed  your  husband,  and  are  back 
in  their  old  social  places  again,  and  restored  to  their 
once  broken  and  deserted  families." 

A  death-like  paleness  swept  suddenly  into  her 
face.  She  reached  out  her  hands  and  caught  the 
table  by  which  she  was  sitting,  holding  on  to  it 
tightly,  and  trembling  violently. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  about  this  Franklin  Home?" 
I  asked. 

She  shook  her  head,  her  lips  moving  in  a  silent  No. 

"  It  is  a  Christian  home,"  I  said.  "  All  its  inmates 
are  brought  under  Christian  influences.  There  is 
daily  readings  of  the  Scripture,  and  also  family 
prayer  in  the  chapel  of  the  Institution.  Every  Sun- 
day evening  religious  worship  is  held  in  this  chapel, 
and  in  the  afternoon  of  Sunday  there  is  a  Bible 
class.  First  and  last  the  inmates  are  taught  that 
only  by  God's  grace  and  help  can  they  ever  hope  to 
overcome  completely  the  sin  of  drunkenness.  They 
must  fight  this,  as  well  as  all  other  evil  habits  and 
inclinations,  shunning  them  as  sins  against  God,  and 
looking  to  Him  for  the  strength  that  will  give  them 
the  victory ;  so  seeking  to  be  saved  from  all  sins, 
and  coming  thereby  completely  within  the  sphere  of 
His  Divine  protection." 

The  manner  of  Mrs.  Granger  was  that  of  one  who 
did  not  clearly  understand  what  was  being  said  to 
her.  There  were  rapid  changed  in  her  lace,  lights 
and  shadows  passing  swiftly  across  it 


216  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  For  over  three  weeks  your  husband  has  been  in 
this  Home,  and  the  improvement  is  so  great  as  to  be 
almost  marvelous." 

She  laid  her  head  down  upon  my  office  table,  and 
I  saw  that  she  was  weeping. 

"  I  have  never  had  so  great  faith  in  your  hus- 
band's efforts  at  reform  as  I  feel  now.  He  has  passed 
below  the  limit  of  self-confidence;  has  lost  all 
faith  in  himself;  knows  that  he  cannot  stand  in  his 
own  strength;  that  only  God  can  help  and  save 
him." 

I  heard  the  office  door  open,  and  turning,  saw  Mr. 
Granger.  As  I  uttered  his  name  in  a  tone  of  sur- 
prise, his  wife  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  turned  toward 
him  a  face  from  which  the  color  had  gone  out  sud- 
denly. The  two  gazed  at  each  other  for  some  mo- 
ments, standing  a  little  apart,  their  startled  faces  all 
convulsed. 

"  Helen !  Oh,  my  poor  Helen !"  came  trembling 
from  Granger's  lips,  as  he  saw  the  sad  changes  which 
a  few  sorrowful  years  had  wrought  upon  her.  There 
was  an  involuntary  reaching  out  of  his  hands ;  but 
he  held  himself  away.  His  voice  was  inexpressibly 
tender  and  pitiful.  Still,  very  still,  she  stood ;  then 
I  saw  a  slight  movement,  and  then,  with  a  low  cry, 
"  My  husband  I  my  husband !"  she  sprang  forward 
and  laid  her  head  on  his  bosom,  his  arms  at  the  same 
moment  gathering  tightly  around  her.  I  went  out 
and  left  them  alone.  When  I  came  back,  they  \vere 
gone. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  217 

I  was  concerned  about  this.  Granger  had  been, 
I  ti  It,  too  short  a  time  at  the  Home  to  be  safely  re- 
moved from  its  influence.  I  was  not  one  of  those 
who  believed  that  in  an  instant  of  time  a  sinner  was 
washed  white  and  clean,  and  lifted  wholly  away 
from  temptation  and  danger.  To  be  born  again, 
converted,  renewed  by  the  Spirit,  had  for  me  a  dif- 
ferent meaning.  I  had  thought  much  about  these 
things  of  late,  and  held  many  conversations  with 
M  r.  Stannard,  whose  mind  to  me  seemed  peculiarly 
enlightened.  I  believe  that  man  must  be  a  co-worker 
with  God.  That  there  was  no  washing  until  after 
repentance  and  the  putting  away  of  evils  as  sins ;  and 
that  the  "every  whit  clean,"  when  applied  to  young 
converts,  was  a  fallacy,  and  in  consequence  a  snare ; 
that  "He  that  overcometh,  the  same  shall  be  clothed 
in  white  raiment,"  and  none  others.  I  believed  that 
a  change  of  heart  was  a  gradual  thing,  progressing 
with  the  new  life  of  obedience  to  Divine  laws,  and 
that  as  obedience  was  continued  and  perfected,  the 
new  spiritual  man  became  stronger  and  stronger, 
until  at  last  able  to  stand  firm,  though  all  hell  were 
in  battle  array  against  him. 

Only  a  few  weeks  since  we  had  lifted  this  man 
out  of  the  mire  and  clay ;  only  a  few  weeks  of  tin- 
new  and  better  life.  Was  he  strong  enough  to  leave 
the  safe  harbor  in  which  he  had  been  anchored  for 
so  short  a  time,  and  try  the  open  sea  again  ?  I  did 
not  believe  it.  My  fear  was,  that  he  had  gone 
hume  with  Mrs.  Granger,  and  that  lie  would  not  re- 


218  STRONG  DRINK; 

turn  again  to  the  Institution  in  which  we  had  placed 
him.    If  this  were  so,  I  should  tremble  for  his  safety. 

In  the  evening  I  went  to  the  Home,  and,  to  my 
great  relief,  found  Mr.  Granger  in  the  reading-room. 
The  whole  expression  of  his  countenance  had 
changed.  There  was  a  light  in  it  which  I  had  not 
seen  before.  He  grasped  my  hand  and  held  it  firmly 
for  a  few  moments  without  speaking. 

"  Coming  out  right  very  fast,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  faster  than  I  had  dared  to  hope,"  he  replied. 

"  Did  you  go  home  with  your  wife  ?" 

"  No.  We  walked  together  for  an  hour  after  leav- 
ing your  office,  and  then  I  came  back  here.  I  am 
too  weak  yet  for  any  great  trial  of  my  strength.  It 
is  easy  enough  to  stand  with  all  these  helps  around 
me ;  but  I  must  grow  stronger  in  myself  before  I 
attempt  to  walk  alone.  And  then  I  cannot  be  a 
burden  to  my  poor  wife,  who  is  already  overtaxed  in 
her  efforts  to  keep  a  home  for  our  children.  As  soon 
as  possible  I  must  get  something  to  do  that  I  may 
come  to  her  relief." 

"  Will  you  open  a  law  office  again  ?" 

"  Law  is  my  profession.  I  have  no  skill  in  any- 
thing else.  It  is  my  only  way  of  return  to  business 
and  profit.  Yes,  just  as  soon  as  I  feel  strong  enough 
to  make  the  effort,  I  shall  endeavor  to  get  into  prac- 
tice. In  passing  along  Walnut  Street  to-day,  I  saw 
several  small  offices  to  let,  any  one  of  which  would 
suit  me.  My  great  drawback  will  .be  the  want  of  a 
law  library." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  219 

"  Don't  let  that  trouble  you,"  I  replied.  "  There 
arc  plenty  of  old  friends  in  the  profession  who  will 
gladly  let  you  have  the  use  of  hooks  until  you  are 
able  to  buy  for  yourself.  As  soon  as  it  is  seen  that 
you  are  in  real  earnest  about  getting  on  your  feet 
apiin,  you  will  receive  a  warm  welcome  and  the 
•p  of  many  helping  hands." 

Within  six  weeks  from  the  time  Granger  came 
out  of  prison,  he  had  a  desk  in  the  office  of  a  promi- 
nent lawyer,  whose  large  practice  enabled  him  to 
throw  considerable  business  in  his  way  from  the  very 
start  He  still  remained  at  the  Reformatory  Home, 
where,  for  a  moderate  price,  he  had  a  well-furnished 
room  and  excellent  board.  He  not  only  identified 
himself  with  the  Institution,  but  became  deeply  in- 
terested in  the  work  of  reform.  He  had,  himself, 
been  a  cast-away  on  the  desolate  shore  where  so 
many  thousands  are  wrecked  every  year;  and  he 
knew  all  the  pains  and  horrors  of  such  disasters. 
Hi.-  pity  and  his  sympathy  drew  towards  him  every 
new  inmate  of  the  Home,  and  prompted  him  to  do 
all  that  lay  in  his  power  to  encourage,  comfort  and 
help  him  to  begin  that  new  and  higher  life,  in  which, 
as  he  never  failed  to  urge,  true  and  permanent  safety 
could  alone  be  found. 

"  Have  you  ever  attended  religious  services  at  the 
Home  on  Sunday  evening?"  Mr.  Stannard  asked, 
one  day.  It  was  about  two  months  after  Mr.  Gran- 
ger's admission.  I  had  not. 

"  Come  round  to-morrow  night.     It  will  interest 


220  STRONG  DRINK; 

you.     Rev.  Mr.  S is  going  to  preach  to  the 


men." 


I  went,  and,  to  my  surprise,  found  a  little  chapel, 
which  held  about  two  hundred,  so  well  filled  that 
only  a  few  seats  remained.  There  were  quite  as 
many  women  as  men;  wives,  mothers,  sisters  or 
friends  of  the  inmates.  A  little  way  hack  from  the 
reading-desk  I  noticed  Mr.  Granger,  and  it  almost 
took  my  breath  when  I  saw  his  wife  sitting  on  one 
side  of  him  and  his  daughter  on  the  other.  There 
was  reading  from  the  Bible,  and  one  or  two  hymns, 
in  which  the  whole  congregation  joined  heartily. 
Then  a  most  excellent  sermon  from  one  of  the  lead- 
ing clergymen  of  the  city. 

It  was  a  long  time  since  I  had  been  so  much  im- 
pressed as  by  the  services  of  this  evening.  I  sat 
where  I  could  look  into  the  faces  of  nearly  all  who 
were  present.  Just  in  front  of  me  was  Mr.  Gran- 
ger, and  beside  him  his  wife  and  daughter,  all  at- 
tentive listeners  to  the  discourse.  Not  far  from  them 
I  recognized  the  person  of  Dr.  II .  He  sat  be- 
tween two  women,  also,  and  I  had  no  doubt  from  the 
way  they  leaned  towards  him,  or  turned  now  and 
then  to  look  at  him,  that  one  was  his  wife  and  the 
other  the  daughter  whom  he  had  followed  for  so 
many  blocks  in  the  street,  too  sorely  conscious  of  his 
degradation  to  dare  even  to  speak  to  her.  And  Mr. 
Lawrence,  who  had  written  to  his  wife  and  received 
the  promise  of  her  speedy  return,  was  there  likewise; 
and  by  him  sat  a  woman  with  a  calm,  strong,  true 


THE  CURSE  AKD  T11E  CURE.  221 

and  I  saw,  with  a  throb  of  feeling,  which  sent 
the  moisture  to  my  eyes,  that  she  was  holding  one  of 
his  hands  tightly  in  one  of  hers. 

There  were  nearly  a  hundred  men  present  who 
had  been,  or  were  now,  inmates  of  the  Institution ; 
and  wives,  sisters  and  mothers  almost  as  many  more. 
Sad,  indeed,  was  the  writing  on  nearly  all  of  the 
faces  into  which  I  gazed;  but  light  mingled  with 
the  shadows.  There  were  men  before  me  who  had 
been  drunkards  for  over  ten  and  twenty  years — 
some  for  even  a  longer  time — and  women  who  had 
borne  the  awful  sorrow  of  the  drunkard's  wife  for 
periods  quite  as  long. 

What  followed  touched  me  most  of  all.  After  the 
benediction  was  said,  and  the  congregration  began 
slowly  to  retire,  I  saw  little  groups  of  twos  and  threes 
and  fours  gathering  here  and  there,  standing  or  sit- 
ting, and  soon  comprehended  what  it  meant.  Here 
you  saw  a  husband  and  wife,  who  had  lived  apart 
i»r  yi-ars,  sitting  close  together  in  earnest  conversa- 
tion ;  and  there  wife  and  children  gathered  about  a 
1  in-hand  and  father  who  had  long  been  lost  to  them, 
I  MIL  was  now  found  again.  What  light,  and  even 
joy,  were  to  be  seen  in  the  faces  of  many,  the  women's 
fan's  especially.  And  it  was  allivtini;  to  notice  .some 
of  the  children — little  girls  more  particularly — hold- 
ing tightly  to  their  father's  hands,  sitting  close  to 
and  leaning  against  them,  or  looking  up  lovingly 
into  their  faces.  There  were  many  tender  re-unions 
that  night  in  the  little  ehajMjl,  above  whose  reading- 


222  STKONG  DRINK; 

desk  a  silken  banner  held  the  inscription,  "  BY  THE 
GRACE  OF  GOD,  I  AM  WHAT  I  AM." 

I  made  my  way,  as  soon  as  the  crowd  had  cleared 
a  little,  to  where  Mr.  Granger  and  his  wife  and 
daughter  were  standing  together.  They  looked  very 
happy — yes,  "  happy  "  is  the  word — and  greeted  me 
with  much  cordiality. 

"  Is  this  the  first  time  you  have  attended  worship 
in  our  chapel  ?"  Mr.  Granger  asked. 

"  The  first  time,"  I  replied.  "  But  I  feel  as  if  it 
was  not  going  to  be  the  last.  I  have  heard  people 
speak  of  the  '  sphere  of  worship,'  but  never  knew 
what  it  meant  until  to-night." 

"  It  is  because,"  he  answered,  "  there  are  very  few 
in  the  congregations  that  assemble  here  on  Sunday 
evenings,  who  do  not  feel  that  their  only  hope  is  in 
God,  and  that  without  His  grace  they  cannot  stand 
for  a  moment." 

"  Who  are  all  the  people  I  see  around  me  ?"  I 
asked. 

"  About  thirty  of  the  men  are  present  inmates  of 
the  Home.  Nearly  all  the  rest  were  formerly  in- 
mates, and  are  standing  firm.  They  come  here  on 
Sunday  evenings ;  and  those  who  have  families  bring 
their  wives,  and  many  their  children.  If  one  absents 
himself  from  these  Sunday  evening  services,  there 
is  a  feeling  of  concern  in  regard  to  him ;  for  expe- 
rience has  shown,  that  the  first  sign  of  danger  is  a 
manifest  indifference  to  the  things  of  religion.  I 
never  look  at  that  banner  above  the  reading-desk, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  223 

without  a  new  sense  of  my  entire  dependence  on  God 
for  strength  to  walk  safely  in  the  midst  of  tempta- 
tion ;  and  I  am  sure  that  its  silent  admonition  has 
wrought  a  like  influence  with  many  others.  It  is 
by  God's  grace  that  I  am  what  I  am." 

Mrs.  Granger's  large  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  hus- 
band's face  while  he  spoke ;  and  I  saw  something  of 
their  old  charm  coming  back  into  them.  A  soft 
smile  was  hovering  like  a  faint  gleam  of  sunshine  on 
In T  lips.  We  moved  back  the  chairs  amid  which 
we  were  standing,  making  with  them  a  small  circle, 
an  1  sat  down  together. 

Iy  last  night  in  the  Home,"  said  Granger,  after 
a  brief  silence.  His  voice  had  lost  some  of  its 
steadiness. 

"  Indeed !"     I  betrayed  a  little  surprise. 

"  Yes."  He  turned  towards  his  wife,  looking  at 
In  T  tenderly.  We  are  going  to  set  up  our  household 
gods  again." 

The  smile  grew  warmer  on  her  lips. 

"  \Vre  have  taken  a  little  home,  and  are  going  to 
make  a  new  start  in  life ;  and  there  is  going  to  be  in 
this  home  what  was  never  seen  in  the  old  home. 
Shall  I  tell  you  what  that  is,  my  good  friend  to 
whom  I  owe  so  much  ?" 

I  waited  for  him  to  go  on.  Hushing  his  voice, 
and  speaking  reverently,  he  said :  "A  family  altar." 

Before  the  silence  that  followed  was  broken,  we 
were  joined  by  the  president  and  two  or  three 
gentle-men  who  WLTU  active  in  the  management  of 


224  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  Home.  While  I  was  talking  with  them,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Granger,  with  their  daughter,  drew  away, 
and  a  little  while  afterwards  I  saw  them  separate  at 
the  door  of  the  chapel. 

On  the  next  day  Granger  left  the  Institution,  and 
went  back  into  the  old  common  life,  to  try,  amidst 
its  thousand  enticements  to  evil,  the  new  sources  of 
strength  in  which  he  was  now  trusting  for  safety. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

STILL  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood,  the  springs 
of  action  were  yet  strong.  An  orderly  life 
soon  restored  Granger  to  a  measure  of  the  old  vigor, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  cases  of  importance  be^an 
to  come  into  his  hands.  And  now  my  concern  for 
him  be^an  to  grow  again.  If  the  engrossing  cares 
of  his  profession,  and  the  worldliness  that  creeps  in 

:sily  tli rough  the  door  that  prosperity  opens, 
should  draw  him  into  religious  indifference,  and 
inspire  him  with  self-confidence,  would  not  the  old 
peril  return? 

One  thing  gave  me  much  assurance.  Granger 
had  identified  himself  with  the  cause  of  temperance, 
and  made  frequent  pulilic  addresses.  He  took  an 
active  part  in  all  the  movements  designed  to  effect 

ictive  legislation,  and  was  the  author  of  several 
able  articles  in  which  the  magnitude  of  the  liquor 
trallic,  and  its  attendant  evils  were  set  forth  with 
startling  boldness. 

Had  the  family  altar  been  set  up?  Yes.  I  put 
the  question  direct  about  six  months  after  he  had 
left  the  Institution  in  Locust  Street.  He  laid  his 
hand  quietly  but  firmly  on  my  arm  as  he  replied: 
"In  my  home  and  in  my  heart." 
15 


226  STRONG  DRINK; 

His  countenance  softened,  and  his  eyes  grew 
tender.  I  learned  then  for  the  first  time  that  he  had 
become  much  interested  in  church  work,  and  had 
been  chiefly  instrumental  in  the  establishment  of  a 
mission  school  in  a  destitute  part  of  the  city ;  and 
that  he  did  not  confine  his  efforts  alone  to  the  poor 
children  who  were  gathered  into  this  school,  but 
endeavored  to  reach  with  good  influences  their 
parents,  many  of  whom  were  sadly  degraded,  and 
most  of  them  intemperate.  On  expressing  my 
gratification,  he  merely  said :  "  I  would  make  a  poor 
return  for  all  the  good  I  have  received,  if  I  did  not 
try  to  do  something  for  others.  The  heart  that 
closes  itself  to  gratitude,  closes  itself  to  higher  and 
diviner  things.  If  the  love  of  God  be  in  a  man,  it 
must  prompt  him  to  help  and  save  others ;  and  his 
love  is  spurious — of  himself  and  selfish — call  it  by 
what  name  he  may,  if  it  does  not  do  this." 

"  What  about  that  old  appetite  ?"  I  asked  on  an- 
other occasion.  It  was  six  months  later.  "  Does  it 
trouble  you  ?" 

"No." 

"  Has  it  been  extirpated  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  for  a  few  moments,  a  serious 
expression  gathering  on  his  face,  and  then  replied  : 
"  It  would  be  about  as  safe  for  me  to  put  a  pistol  to 
my  head  as  a  glass  to  my  lips.  Appetite  is  not 
dead ;  it  has  only  been  removed  from  the  seat  of 
power,  and  made  passive  and  subordinate.  I  give  it 
no  opportunity.  I  resist  its  slightest  effort  to  rise, 


TIIE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  227 

and  hold  its  indulgence  as  a  sin  which  I  dare  not 
commit." 

"  When  its  motions  are  felt,  how  do  you  resist 
them  ?" 

"As  I  would  resist  a  temptation  to  steal  or  commit 
murder  or  any  other  sin  against  God.  I  turn  my 
thought  from  the  image  or  allurement,  and  hold 
myself  free  from  action.  If  temptation  presses,  I 
lift  my  heart  and  say,  '  Lord,  deliver  me  from  evil;' 
and  He  does  deliver  me." 

"  Do  you  often  have  these  temptations  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Their  assaults  are  growing  less  and  less  frequent, 
and  less  and  less  violent.  But  I  make  it  a  rule  to 
keep  away  as  far  from  the  enemy's  ground  as  possi- 
ble. Invitations  to  public  dinners,  where  liquor  is 
served,  I  rarely,  if  ever,  accept.  And  I  am  as  chary  of 
private  entertainments,  where  wine  is  too  often  more 
freely  dispensed  than  water.  Nothing  would  tempt 
me  to  go  inside  of  a  drinking  saloon,  unless  it  were 
in  order  to  save  some  fallen  brother,  and  then  my 
good  purpose  would  be  a  panoply  of  defence." 

"  Do  you  never  expect  to  have  this  appetite  wholly 
removed  ?" 

"  What  may  come  in  the  future  is  more  than  I 
can   say.     But  safe  abiding  to  the  end  is  what  I 
,  and  I  do  not  mean  to  fail  through  any  over- 
weening confidence  in  the  utter  extinction  of  this 
appetite." 

"  Do  you  not  believe  that  God  will  take  it  away 
in  answer  to  prayer — take  it  away  by  an  act  of 


228  STRONG  DRINK; 

grace,  and  without  any  resistance  to  the  demands  of 
appetite,  or  co-operation  of  any  kind  on  your  part?" 
"  No,  I  do  not  believe  anything  of  the  kind.  I 
Lave  met  with  some  who  held  such  a  view,  and  who 
spoke  confidently  as  to  themselves;  but  I  have 
always  regarded  them  as  being  in  more  danger  than 
others.  I  cannot  understand  how  it  is  possible  for 
God  to  save  a  man  who  makes  no  effort  to  save  him- 
self. I  have  seen  quite  a  number  of  cases  in  the  last 
year,  where  men  professed  to  be  cleansed  from  all 
sin,  drunkenness  included,  in  a  moment  of  time,  and 
simply  in  answer  to  prayer.  It  did  not  take  a  great 
while  to  make  it  manifest  that  the  old  Adam  was 
about  as  strong  in  them  as  before.  Some  of  them 
led  better  lives,  and  were  able  to  keep  free  from 
drunkenness ;  but  it  was  not  because  their  evil  in- 
clinations had  been  removed  in  answer  to  prayer  and 
faith,  but  because  they  began  fighting  them,  and 
looking  to  God  as  they  fought,  and  overcoming 
through  the  Divine  power  that  is  given  to  all  who 
will  take  it.  Regeneration  is  a  slow  and  gradual 
work ;  not  the  sudden  creation  of  a  new  spiritual 
man  with  all  of  his  affection  in  Heaven.  This  higher 
life  is  not  attained  through  faith  and  prayer,  but 
through  combat  against  the  evils  that  are  in  the  hu- 
man heart.  The  Church  is  militant. 

"  '  Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 

On  flowery  beds  of  ease, 
"While  others  fought  to  win  Ihe  prize, 
Or  sailed  through  bloody  seas  ? 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  229 

'Sure  I  must  fight,  if  I  would  reign ; 

Increase  my  courage,  Lord. 
I'll  bear  the  cross,  endure  the  pain, 
Supported  by  Thy  Word.' 

"  Fight  against  what  ?  The  world,  the  flesh  and 
die  devil.  Where?  In  our  hearts;  for  nowhere 
else  can  they  assail  or  do  us  harm ;  and  with  God 
on  one  side,  and  the  Divine  power  of  His  Word 
from  which  to  take  sword  and  shield,  we  may  be 
invincible  if  we  will — Christian  soldiers,  fighting 
our  way  to  Heaven ;  not  weak  spiritual  babes,  borne 
thither  in  supporting  arms,  and  of  little  use  when 
we  get  there." 

Granger  had  been  thinking,  living  and  growing 
more  than  I  had  thought  I  saw  hi  clearer  light  the 
ground  of  his  safety.  He  was  not  a  mere  professor, 
trusting  for  salvation  in  some  ideal  purification,  or 
resting  satisfied  in  simple  church-membership ;  but 
an  earnest  inner-living  and  outer-working  Christian 
man,  who  could  give  a  reason  which  other  men's 
reason  might  apprehend  for  the  hope  that  was  in 
him. 

From  this  time  my  concern  for  Granger  decreased  ; 
for  I  understood  better  wherein  his  strength  lay.  He 
was  living  a  new  life,  obedient  to  Divine  laws,  in  the 
higher  and  more  interior  regions  of  his  mind ;  and 
this  new  life,  or  new  spiritual  man,  born  from  above 
"  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit " — was  ruling  over  the 
old  natural  life  and  holding  it  in  orderly  subjection. 
With  him,  reason  and  faith  had  become  harmonizc-d. 


230  STRONG  DRINK; 

He  was  not  walking  blindly,  nor  in  any  false  secu- 
rity, trusting  in  some  dogma  he  could  not  under- 
stand ;  but  in  a  clear  spiritual  light — a  thinking  as 
well  as  a  believing  Christian.  With  him,  faith  was 
the  "  evidence  of  things  not  seen ;"  and  this  faith,  or 
evidence,  had  two  foundations  to  rest  upon,  the 
Divine  Law,  and  the  reason  which  God  had  given 
him  for  the  apprehension  of  that  Law.  "  A  blind 
faith  is  worth  nothing — is  no  faith  at  all,"  he  would 
say.  "  Is,  in  fact,  spiritual  blindness.  But  Christ 
came  to  open  the  eyes  of  the  spiritually  blind  that 
they  might  see,  and  discern  the  weightier  things  of 
His  law — judgment,  mercy  and  faith — in  the  keep- 
ing of  which  salvation  is  alone  to  be  found." 

"  The  whole  theory  of  religion  is  embraced  in  this 
simple  precept,"  he  once  said  to  me :  "  Cease  to  do 
evil  because  it  is  sin,  and  therefore  contrary  to  the 
Divine  Law.  When  a  man  does  this,  he  makes  an 
effort  to  obey  God ;  and  obedience  is  higher  than 
faith  and  more  effectual  than  sacrifice.  Just  as  soon 
as  a  man  begins  to  shun  the  evils  to  which  he  is  in- 
clined, because  to  do  them  would  be  sin,  God  begins 
in  him  the  work  of  purification,  and  gives  him 
strength  for  still  further  resistance.  This  is  true 
saving  faith ;  for  it  is  the  faith  of  obedience — the 
faith  that  looks  humbly  to  God,  trusts  in  Him  and 
seeks  to  do  His  will.  The  first  effort  may  be  very 
feeble,  but  if  it  be  a  true  effort,  Divine  strength  will 
flow  into  it ;  and  then  he  will  have  an  almost  imme- 
diate sense  of  deliverance,  followed  by  a  season  of 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  231 

rest  and  pence.  The  clangers  of  this  first  state  are 
many.  In  the  parable  of  the  Sower,  our  Lord  has 
declared  them.  Only  they  'which,  in  an  honest  and 
good  heart,  having  heard  the  Word,  keep  it,  and 
bring  forth  fruit  with  patience' — the  fruit  of  right 
living — can  attain  to  the  kingdom.  Too  many  err 
in  mistaking  this  first  delight,  when  the  springing 
blade  feels  the  refresliing  airs  and  warm  sunshine  of 
heaven,  for  the  later  harvest  time.  With  them  the 
good  seed  has  fallen  in  stony  places  or  among  thorns. 
Alas !  that  we  have  so  many  of  these." 

Mr.  Granger's  interest  in  the  cause  of  temperance 
grew  as  he  continued  to  devote  all  the  time  he  could 
spare  from  his  profession  to  the  work  of  its  exten- 
sion. When,  two  years  after  his  reformation,  that 
remarkable  movement  known  as  the  "  Woman's 
Crusade,"  began  in  Ohio,  and  spread  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  prairie  fire  from  town  to  town  and  State 
to  State,  until  it  reached  almost  every  city  and  ham- 
let in  the  land,  he  gave  it  such  aid  and  approval  as 
lay  in  his  power.  I  was  surprised  at  this,  and  said 
so  frankly. 

"  It  is  a  mere  outbreak  of  wild  enthusiasm,"  I  re- 
marked, "  and  will  die  as  suddenly  as  it  has  flamed 
up.  And,  moreover,  those  who  are  engaged  in  it 
are  acting  in  violation  of  law,  and  order,  and  the 
sacredness  of  individual  rights." 

IK-  waited  for  a  little  while  before  answering  me, 
and  thru  said:  "I  have  watched  this  movement, 
and  thought  about  it  a  great  deal,  and  I  must  own 


232  STRONG  DRIXK; 

that  it  has  stirred  my  heart  profoundly.  There  is 
something  deeper  in  it  than  I  am  yet  ahle  clearly  to 
comprehend.  That  its  effects  are  marvelous  no  one 
can  deny — and  good  as  well  as  marvelous.  If  pray- 
ing with  and  for  saloon-keepers,  in  or  out  of  their 
bar-rooms,  will  induce  them  to  abandon  their  deadly 
traffic,  then  I  say  '  God-speed !'  to  those  who  see  in 
this  way  of  lighting  the  common  enemy  their  line 
of  duty.  If  praying  will  shut  the  doors  of  all  the 
saloons  in  a  town,  by  all  means  let  prayer  be 
tried." 

"  But  is  it  really  prayer  that  does  the  work  ?" 

"  Prayer  is  certainly  the  chief  agency.  No  one 
can  question  that." 

"  You  believe,  then,  that  because  a  praying  band 
of  women  kneel  down  in  a  saloon  and  pray  to  God 
to  turn  the  heart  of  the  keeper  away  from  his  evil 
work  and  lead  him  to  abandon  it,  that  God  answers 
their  prayers  and  converts  the  saloon-keeper  ?" 

"  You  have  the  facts  of  such  conversions  before 
you ;  and  they  are  not  a  few.  How  will  you  explain 
them?" 

"  I  confess  myself  at  fault.  But  I  do  not  believe 
that  God  was  any  the  less  inclined  to  convert  the 
saloon-keeper,  and  lead  him  to  abandon  his  work  of 
destroying  men,  soul  and  body,  before  the  women 
prayed,  than  He  was  afterwards." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Indeed,  I  am  sure  He  was  not. 
God's  love  for  the  human  race  is  infinite,  and  cannot 
therefore  gain  any  increase  through  man's  interces- 


THE  CURSE  AND   THE  CURE.  233 

If  He  waits  to  be  entreated,  it  is  for  the 
entreaty  that  shall  change  man's  attitude  towards 
Jliin,  not  His  attitude  to  man.  And  herein  I  take 
it  lies  the  value  and  the  power  of  prayer." 

"  Hut  how  can  the  prayers  of  a  band  of  women 
change  a  saloon-keeper's  attitude  towards  God  V"  I 
asked.  "  He  doesn't  pray,  but  actually  sets  himself 
against  prayer.  Instead  of  looking  to  God,  he  re- 
jects Him." 

"  All  that  is  effected  by  prayer  we  cannot  know," 
Granger  replied ;  "  for  its  influence  is  in  the  region 
.of  things  invisible  to  mortal  eyes.  We  understand 
but  little  of  the  laws  that  govern  spiritual  forces ; 
but  that  they  are  as  unerring  in  their  operations  as 
any  law  of  nature,  we  may  safely  conclude." 

Mr.  Stannard  joined  us  here,  and,  learning  the 
subject  of  our  'conversation,  said:  "If  you  will  re- 
flect a  little,  I  think  yon  will  see  that  there  must  be 
a  kind  of  spiritual  medium  or  atmosphere  on  which 
our  thoughts  and  feelings  pass  in  some  mysterious 
way  from  one  to  another,  as  light  and  sound  are 
transmitted  by  our  common  atmosphere.  Let  us 
suppose,  by  way  of  illustration,  that  a  mother  is 
thinking  intently  of  her  absent  son,  and  her  heart 
at  the  same  time  going  out  lovingly  towards  him.  Or, 
let  us  suppose  that  she  feels  deep  concern  for  his 
Bpi  ritual  state,  and  is  praying  earnestly  that  he  may 
turn  from  the  evil  of  his  ways  and  give  his  heart  to 
God.  Now,  will  not  her  thought  of  her  son  reach 
him  on  some  medium  cf  transmission  too  subtle  to 


234  STRONG  DRINK; 

be  perceived  by  our  grosser  senses,  and  so  make  her 
present  to  his  thoughts  ?  And  will  not  the  loving 
concern  which  is  affecting  her  so  deeply  reach  him 
at  the  same  time,  and  open  his  heart  to  the  heavenly 
influences  which  have  been  waiting,  it  may  be  for 
years,  at  the  shut  door,  for  an  opportunity  to  come 
in  ?  God  has  not  changed.  He  has  not  waited  for 
the  mother's  prayers  to  reach  Him  before  He  will 
save  her  son  ;  but  the  mother's  prayers  have  affected 
the  son,  and  revived,  it  may  be,  old  states  of  inno- 
cence, or  reverence  for  God,  or  thoughts  of  love  and 
duty  into  which  angelic  impulses  might  flow,  and. 
the  Spirit  of  God  take  hold,  and  through  them 
quicken  the  sleeping  conscience. 

"  There  is  a  doctrine,  which,  if  true — and  I  think 
it  must  be  true — throws  a  strong  light  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  explains  the  phenomena  of  what  are  re- 
garded as  answers  to  prayer.  It  is  this :  From 
infancy  up  to  mature  years,  the  Lord  continually 
provides  for  the  storing  up  in  the  memory  of  pure, 
and  true,  and  innocent  things — such  as  various  states 
of  innocence  and  charity ;  of  love  towards  relatives, 
brothers  and  sisters,  teachers  and  friends ;  of  mercy 
toward  the  poor  and  needy,  and  kindness  towards  all. 
When  infancy  is  passed,  and  the  mind  begins  to 
open,  then,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  be  done,  the 
Lord  provides  that  some  precepts  of  life  be  stored 
up,  as  duty  to  the  Lord  and  the  neighbor,  and  also 
knowelge  of  faith.  These  remain  protected  in  the 
inner  memory,  as  the  things  by  which  the  Lord  can 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  235 

itc  with  man  after  he  arrives  at  the  age  of  free- 
dom and  rationality;  and  it  is  by  means  of  these 
that  He  lifts  him  out  of  his  inherited  evil  affections, 
and  li-ads  him  heavenward." 

"A  most  important  doctrine,  if  true,"  I  said.  "But 
I  am  not  able  to  see  how  it  explains  the  phenomena 
of  answers  to  prayer." 

"  Suppose,"  replied  Mr.  Stannard,  "  we  take  the 
case  of  a  saloon-keeper  in  whose  memory,  hidden 
away  and  covered  up  for  years,  have  lain  some  of 
these  innocent,  and  tender,  and  merciful  states, 
stored  there  in  childhood  through  the  loving  care  of 
a  mother.  The  Lord  has  been  very  watchful  over 
them ;  and  has  kept  them  hidden  and  safe  in  some 
closely-sealed  chamber,  lest  the  evil  things  of  his 
evil  life  should  destroy  them.  Not  one  of  these 
states  has  been  lost ;  not  a  good  or  true  precept  erased 
from  the  book  of  his  memory — they  have  only  been 
kept  away  from  his  consciousness  while  he  immersed 
himself  in  evil,  so  that  they  might  not  be  rejected 
and  lost  This  man  is  in  his  bar-room.  The  door 
opens,  and  half  a  dozen  women  enter.  The  moment 
he  sees  them,  his  anger  flames  out,  and  he  launches 
frightful  oaths  and  vile  imprecations  against  them. 
But  the  women  are  in  earnest.  They  believe  in  the 
power  of  prayer,  and  are  going  to  try  its  influence 
here.  As  they  pass  into  the  saloon,  the  clear,  sweet 
voice  of  the  leader  swells  out,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  a  dozen  years,  it  may  be,  there  breaks  on  the 
man's  ears  the  words,  'All  hail  the  power  of  Jesua' 


236  STRONG  DRINK; 

name !'  It  does  not  need  the  chorus  of  voices  that 
take  up  the  words  and  music  to  drown  his  impreca- 
tions. They  have  already  died  on  his  lips.  What 
a  strange  feeling  has  come  over  him!  Where  is  he? 
In  the  old  village  church,  listening  to  his  mother's 
or  sister's  voice  in  the  choir  ?  The  Lord  has  ever 
been  very  near  to  him,  though  unseen  and  unknown, 
waiting  for  an  opportunity  like  this.  How  still ,  he 
stands,  listening  and  bending  a  little  forward  towards 
the  singers !  And  now,  in  the  strange  hush  that 
follows,  the  women  kneel,  and  one  of  them  lifts  her 
voice,  speaking  to  God  reverently,  and  asking  Him 
to  touch  and  soften  the  heart  of  this  man,  who  has 
forgotten  the  loving  precepts  of  his  mother  and  the 
God  whom  she  served,  and  who  has  given  himself 
to  the  work  of  destroying  his  fellow-men.  '  Have 
pity  on  him,  Lord !'  she  says,  in  pleading  tones ; 
'  for  the  hurt  to  himself  will  be  deeper  than  the  hurt 
to  his  neighbor.  By  the  memory  of  his  mother's 
love,  of  his  pure  and  innocent  childhood,  of  the 
prayers  that  came  once  from  his  sweet,  baby  lips, 
touch  and  soften  his  heart,  and  turn  it  to  higher  and 
better  and  holier  things.'  Do  you  wonder,  as  the 
women  rise,  and  commence  singing '  Nearer  my  God 
to  Thee,'  that  the  bowed  head  of  the  saloon-keeper 
is  not  raised ;  that  his  eyes  are  dim,  if  not  blinded 
by  tears  ?  Do  you  wonder  that  conviction  of  sin 
strikes  him  to  the  heart;  or  that,  under  these  influ- 
ences, quickened  and  strengthened  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  which  has  found  an  opportunity  in  this 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CTAA'  237 

stirring  of  old  memories  and  revival  of  old  states, 
he  H  lillcd  with  such  a  horror  of  his  old  life,  and 
such  sorrow  for  the  evil  he  has  done,  that  he  re- 
solves, through  God's  help,  to  be  a  new  and  a  better 
m:m  '.' 

"  Xow,  what  did  prayer  effect  in  this  case?  Did 
God  soften  and  change  the  heart  of  this  man  in 
answer  to  the  prayers  that  were  offered  in  his  saloon ; 
or,  were  these  prayers  the  agency  by  which  God's 
Spirit  was  able  to  reach  his  heart  and  vivify  the 
remains  of  innocent,  and  good,  and  holy  things 
which,  through  the  Divine  mercy,  had  been  stored 
up  in  childhood  and  youth,  and  kept  hidden  away 
a  n « 1  .--a  ft  •  from  destruction  ?  I  cannot  comprehend  how 
the  first  could  be.  The  last  is  clear  to  my  appre- 
hension. The  first  makes  God  seem  worse  than 
indifferent.  Souls  may  perish  by  myriads  if  no  one 
will  make  intercession  for  them.  He  will  not  stoop 
to  save  unless  supplication  be  offered.  But  in  the 
latter  virw,  lie  is  forever  bending  down,  merciful 
and  foni passionate;  forever  reaching  out  His  hands ; 
forever  providing  the  means  of  salvation ;  foi 
seeking  to  save  that  which  is  lost.  Prayer  becomes 
a  more  powerful  agent,  in  so  far  as  its  rationale  is 
Faith  is  not  diminished,  but  made  stronger. 
AVe  need  not  ask  God  to  be  gracious;  to  turn  away 
His  anger;  to  be  pitiful  and  compassionate — for  lie 
is  as  much  more  loving,  and  pitiful,  and  compas- 
sionate, than  any  man  or  angel,  as  the  infin" 
greater  than  the  finite.  I'.ut  we  may  feel  sure,  if  we 


238  STRONG  DRINK; 

pray  from  the  heart  for  submission  to  the  Divine 
will ;  for  patience,  and  humility,  and  strength  for 
duty  and  self-denial,  that  our  prayers  will  be  an- 
swered, in  the  degree  that  they  are  offered  in  spirit 
and  in  truth." 

"  But  our  prayers  for  others,"  said  Mr.  Granger ; 
"  what  form  of  intercession  shall  we  use  for  them  ? 
How  shall  we  make  them  avail  for  good  ?  This  is 
now  the  important  question." 

"  Let  each  pray  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart," 
Mr.  Stannard  replied.  "  If  it  be  with  those  whom 
we  seek  to  influence  and  turn  from  evil  to  God,  the 
effect  will  be  more  marked,  and  often  attended  with 
more  favorable  results  than  when  we  pray  for  the 
absent  and  the  unseen.  Our  voices  and  tones,  and 
the  words  we  speak,  are  heard  by  those  for  whom  we 
thus  pray,  and  more  quickly  penetrate  the  locked 
chambers  of  the  soul,  where  the  Lord  has  been 
keeping  the  remnant  of  precious  things  which  has 
been  left  from  infancy  and  childhood,  and  by  the 
quickening  and  life  of  which,  He  can  save  their  souls 
from  sin.  And  let  us  not  fail  to  pray  for  the  absent 
in  whom  our  interest  has  been  awakened ;  for  our 
beloved  ones;  for  any  and  all  towards  whom  our 
hearts  are  yearning.  And,  as  we  pray,  let  us  think 
of  them  intently,  so  that  we  may  come  nearer  to 
them  in  spirit,  and  our  thought  of  God  bring  the 
thought  of  Him  into  their  minds,  so  that  He  may 
be  able  to  stir  in  their  hearts  the  motions  of  a  better 
life.  The  Lord  is  not  waiting  for  our  prayers  to 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  239 

avail  with  Him  that  lie  may  do  this;  but  for  our 
gravers,  it  may  be,  as  the  only  means  by  which 
the  doors  of  their  hearts  can  be  opened  to  let  Him 


come  in." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"  Crusade,"  as  it  was  called,  went  on ;  and 
for  awhile  the  whole  country  was  in  a  state  of 
wondering  excitement.  Thousands  of  saloons  were 
closed,  and  in  many  towns  the  traffic  in  intoxicating 
liquor  ceased  altogether.  Brewers,  especially  in  some 
of  the  larger  western  cities,  took  the  alarm,  as  well 
they  might,  for  the  sale  of  beer  had  diminished  so 
rapidly  that  the  fear  of  ruin  began  to  stare  them  in 
the  face.  At  Cincinnati,  Chicago  and  St.  Louis,  so 
heavy  a  loss  was  suffered  in  the  internal  revenue 
from  malt  liquors  that  Government  officials  became 
much  disturbed  in  consequence. 

And  still  the  Crusade  went  on.  But  now  the 
surprised  and  discomfited  enemy  began  to  rally  his 
scattered  forces.  In  some  of  the  smaller  towns  he 
had  fought  desperately ;  but  only  with  partial  suc- 
cess in  a  few  cases.  Except  in  the  larger  cities,  he 
had  been  sorely  hurt,  or  vanquished  altogether. 
But  here,  he  was  able  to  make  his  first  sure  stand, 
and  to  begin  striking  back  with  an  effective  force 
that  restored  his  confidence.  The  aid  of  the  press 
was  invoked ;  appeals  made  to  the  law ;  fines  im- 
posed, and  the  interference  and  protection  of  local 
governments  demanded.  Praying  in  saloons  was 

210 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CULT..  241 

declared  to  be  a  nuisance,  if  not  a  crime  against 
social  order ;  and  the  assembling  of  women  in  the 
streets  for  singing  and  prayer  was  fordidden  because 
it  led  to  riot.  In  Cincinnati,  Cleveland  and  other 
cities,  disgraceful  attacks  were  made  by  brutal  men 
on  some  of  the  praying  bands ;  and  in  a  few  cases 
Christian  women  were  arrested  and  sent  to  prison. 

Almost  as  suddenly  as  this  strange,  intense  and 
irresistible  impulse  had  risen,  gained  strength  and 
swept  over  the  land,  did  it  seem  to  die  away ;  and 
the  enemy  said  it  was  dead,  and  made  rejoicings 
over  its  obsequies.  The  wise  ones  who  knew  from 
the  beginning  that  it  would  speedily  come  to  nought, 
happy  in  their  fancied  prescience.  As  for 
myself,  the  result  was  scarcely  different  from  what  I 
had  anticipated.  The  thing  was  abnormal,  in  my 
view,  and  could  not  last.  Merely  an  impulse — wild 
and  strong — which  must  die  from  exhaustion.  But 
my  sympathies  had  been  all  on  the  side  of  the 
movement ;  and  there  were  times  when  the  irresist- 
ible strength  of  its  onward  rush  had  led  me  to 
question  whether  some  new  spiritual  force  had  not 
evolved,  through  the  agency  of  these  praying 
women,  which  was  destined  to  sweep  this  fearful 
mrse  of  intemperance  from  our  land. 

But  the  seeming  collapse  of  the  movement  left 
my  mind  free  to  drift  liaek  among  former  ideas  and 
impressions,  and  even  to  take  up  the  belief  that  as  a 
result  of  this  wild  imjuil.-e,  there  would  follow  a 
corresponding  indillereiiee  and  supine-ness. 
16 


242  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  woman's  movement 
now  ?"  I  asked  of  Mr.  Granger,  who  had  made  seve- 
ral public  addresses  while  the  excitement  was  at  its 
height  in  our  city,  and  in  act,  as  well  as  speech,  given 
it  both  aid  and  sympathy.  "  I  was  afraid  of  this," 
I  added,  before  he  had  time  to  answer  my  question. 

"  Afraid  of  what  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Of  its  utter  collapse.  A  little  while  ago,  and  it 
was  the  great  sensation  of  the  day.  The  columns 
of  our  most  influential  and  most  widely-circulating 
newspapers  were  teeming  with  its  marvels  and  its 
achievements.  To-day,  there  is  scarcely  to  be  found 
in  any  of  them  so  much  as  a  paragraph  an  inch 
long  to  tell  of  its  dying  throes." 

"And  yet,"  he  answered,  speaking  with  an  earn- 
estness that  surprised  me,  "  this  woman's  movement 
was  never  so  strong,  and  deep,  and  effective  as  it  is 
to-day." 

"  I  do  not  see  the  evidence,"  I  replied. 

"There  is  more  real  strength  in  unobtrusive, 
thoughtful,  well-organized  effort,  than  in  the  impetu- 
ous sweep  of  high-wrought  impulse,"  said  Granger. 
"  In  this  great  pioneer  movement,  this  wild  rush  of 
wronged,  and  in  many  cases,  heart-broken  and  des- 
perate women,  as,  losing  faith  and  hope  in  man,  they 
sprang  upon  their  deadly  foe  with  a  bitter  cry  to 
God  for  help,  there  came  to  them  a  revelation  of  the 
true  sources  of  their  power.  The  Lord  answered 
them  in  the  still,  small  voice,  that  grew  clear,  and 
sweet,  and  full  of  comfort  and  assurance  as  the  noise 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE.  243 

of  the  whirlwind  which  had  rent  the  mountain  grew 
silent  on  the  expectant  air.  In  prayer  they  had 
found  a  weapon  which,  if  rightly  used,  would  make 
them  invincible.  Should  they  throw  it  away  in 
despair,  because  in  the  very  first  great  trial  their 
hands  had  struck  a  little  wildly,  and  the  maddened 
foe  seemed  pushing  them  in  consequence  to  a  small 
disadvantage  ?  Not  so.  They  had  heard  the  still, 
small  voice,  and  knew  it  to  be  the  voice  of  their 
Lord.  If  the  prayers  of  a  few  hundreds,  or  a  few 
thousands  of  Christian  women  could  effect  so  much, 
what  might  not  be  done  through  the  united  prayers 
of  tens  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  such  women, 
going  up  in  concert  from  every  city,  town,  village 
and  neighborhood  in  the  land?  Here  was  a  ques- 
tion full  of  significance  and  large  with  promise;  and 
this  is  the  question  to  which  some  of  the  best  and 
most  thoughtful  women  of  our  country  are  giving  an 
earnest  consideration  to-day.  But  their  hands  are 
not  resting  while  they  consider  it ;  nor  is  the  sword 
by  which  they  mean  to  have  the  victory  lying  idle 
in  its  scabbard.  Neither  prayer  nor  work  among 
saloon-keepers  and  their  families,  and  among  their 
wretched  victims,  has  ceased  because  the  press  no 
longer  makes  record  of  the  fact ;  nor  are  the  results 
less  wide  and  cheering  because  the  general  public 
tins  unadvised." 

"  Have  you  evidence  of  all  this?"  I  asked,  not 
concealing  my  astonishment. 

"  Abundant" 


244  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  And  the  work  of  praying  in  saloons  still  goes 
on?" 

"  No.  That  has  ceased  almost  entirely.  It  was 
only  a  pioneer  movement — a  first  wild  rush  upon 
the  enemy  and  trial  of  his  strength  and  resources. 
He  is  not  only  able  to  guard  himself  in  this  direc- 
tion, but  to  weaken  and  divide  the  forces  of  his  as- 
sailants if  the  advance  is  made  upon  him  here.  Or- 
ganization, drill,  discipline,  wise  generalship,  a 
knowledge  of  the  laws  that  govern  in  attack  and 
defence ;  all  these  are  in  progress  and  being  gained 
now." 

"  While  the  enemy,  warned  by  his  brief  dis- 
comfiture, will  entrench  himself  more  securely," 
said  I. 

Granger  smiled.  "  In  war  the  resources  of  attack 
gain  perpetually  on  defense.  To  be  invincible  is  to 
be  exceptional.  Our  women  are  already  getting  their 
siege  guns  in  position,  and  organizing  their  sappers 
and  miners.  Their  spies  and  scouts  are  busy ;  weak 
places  are  being  discovered,  and  new  modes  of  as- 
sault adopted.  Let  me  give  you  a  single  instance 
connected  with  the  present  state  of  the  war  in  our 
own  city,  which  has  never  been  intermitted.  There 
was  a  certain  saloon-keeper  who  had  repulsed  a 
praying  band  with  considerable  rudeness.  He  had 
a  wife  and  two  young  daughters,  and  a  son  in  his 
twelfth  year ;  his  family  living  a  short  distance  from 
his  bar-room.  A  committee  of  twelve  women  were 
selected  to  visit  in  the  neighborhood,  and  do  what 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CUKE.  245 

lay  in  their  power  as  well  to  repress  the  evil  of  in- 
temperance as  to  guard  the  young  from  its  fatal 
allurements.  To  visit  and  pray  in  saloons  was  no 
longer  in  their  programme  ;  but  to  reach  the  saloon- 

ers  and  get  them  to  abandon  their  traffic  was; 
and  to  the  work  of  doing  this  with  the  one  I  have 
mentioned  they  set  themselves  in  sober  earnest. 
Their  first  business  was  to  learn  all  about  him  ;  the 

tcter  of  his  family,  and  the  nature  of  his  home 
relations.  He  was  not  a  bad  man,  the  neighbors  said, 
and,  when  he  did  not  drink  too  freely,  was  kind  and 
indulgent  A  visit  by  a  single  one  of  the  ladies  was 
now  made.  At  first,  the  wife  was  cold  and  distant ; 
but  the  visitor  was  a  woman  with  so  much  of  the  mag- 

n  of  Christian  charity  in  her  soul,  and  withal, 
so  wise  and  prudent  of  speech,  that  it  was  not  long 
before  the  heart  of  the  saloon-keeper's  wife  opened 
to  her,  and  the  mother's  hidden  concern  for  her  boy 
and  two  young  daughters  became  manifest.  After 
a  brief,  carefully-worded  prayer,  the  visitor  went 
away,  but  not  without  asking  if  she  might  not  call 
a--; i in,  and  receiving  an  invitation  to  do  so. 

"  At  her  next  visit,  she  got  farther  down  into  the 
•woman's  heart  and  confidence,  and  was  able  to  speak 
to  her  with  some  freedom  about  the  danger  that  was 
in  the  path  of  her  son — a  danger  it  was  scarcely  pos- 
sible for  him  to  escape  if  his  feet  continued  therein. 
The  mother  wept  at  the  picture  of  peril  the  lady 
drew,  and  said:  'Oh,  if  my  hu>l»and  were  in  some 
other  busine.^.'  The  boy,  a  fine-looking  lad,  came 


246  STRONG  DRINK; 

in  while  they  were  talking  about  him.  The  lady 
took  his  hand  and  spoke  to  him  kindly,  then  drew 
her  arm  about  him  and  asked  if  he  went  to  Sundn y- 
school.  On  his  saying  No,  she  told  him  that  she 
had  a  class  of  nice  little  boys,  and  would  be  glad  to 
have  him  among  them.  He  was  pleased  with  her 
notice,  and  touched  by  her  gentle  kindness.  On  the 
next  Sunday  the  lad  presented  himself  at  school, 
and  was  taken  into  the  lady's  class.  He  was  very 
attentive  and  orderly,  and  promised  to  come  again 
on  the  following  Sunday.  True  to  his  promise,  he 
was  there,  conducting  himself  with  as  much  decorum 
and  attention  to  his  lessons  as  at  first.  A  juvenile 
temperance  meeting  was  held  at  the  close  of  the 
school,  and  all  who  were  not  already  members  in- 
vited to  join.  A  little  to  the  surprise,  and  greatly 
to  the  lady's  delight,  the  boy  came  forward  and  en- 
rolled his  name,  receiving  a  card  on  which  a  pledge 
not  to  drink  intoxicating  liquors,  or  to  give  them 
away  or  traffic  in  them,  was  printed.  At  the  bottom 
he  wrote  his  signature. 

"  Naturally  a  little  anxious  to  know  what  effect 
had  been  produced  at  home  by  this,  and  what  the 
prospect  of  the  boy's  being  able  to  keep  his  pledge, 
the  lady  called  to  see  the  saloon-keeper's  wife  near 
the  close  of  the  week,  when  she  heard  the  following 
story : 

" '  When  John  told  me  what  he'd  done,  and  showed 
me  his  pledge,  I  was  so  glad  !  And  I  kissed  him, 
and  I  said :  "  You  must  keep  it  forever  and  forever, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TIIE  CURE.  247 

John."  And  he  said  that  that  was  just  what  he 
nit -Miit  to  do.  I  kept  it  from  his  father;  for  I  didn't 
k  ii.  .\v  just  how  he'd  take  it.  It  seemed  like  a  reflec- 
tion on  him.  "John,"  says  his  father,  on  Monday 
morning,  as  he  was  leaving,  "come  along.  I  want 
you  in  the  bar  to-day.  Peter's  going  on  an  excur- 
sion, and  I  can't  be  left  all  alone."  John's  face 
became  right  pale.  He  hadn't  moved  when  his 
father  got  to  the  door;  on  seeing  which,  he  called 
out  sharply:  " Did  you  hear  me?"  "You'll  have 
to  go,  John,"  said  I,  in  a  whisper;  for,  you  see,  my 
hu.-hand's  quick,  and  I  was  afraid  for  the  boy.  So 
tiny  went  out,  and  I  was  dreadfully  troubled  about 
him.  It  was,  maybe,  an  hour  afterwards  that  John 
returned,  lie  had  a  scared  kind  of  look  about  him, 
«s  he  came  in.  "What's  happened?  Why  have 
you  come  home  ?"  I  asked.  "  Father  sent  me  home." 
"  What  for  ?"  "  Well,  you  see,  mother,  when  Peter 
went,  father  told  me  that  I  must  tend  bar  in  his 
•  •;  and  then  I  said :  'I'm  sorry,  father,  but  I've 
taken  the  pledge  and  can't  drink,  nor  give  liquors 
away,  nor  sell  it  to  anybody.'  'How  dare  you !  you 
voting  villain  !'  he  cried  out;  and  I  was  afraid  he'd 
knock  me  down,  he  looked  so  strange  and  wild  like. 
Then  lie  got  red,  and  pale,  and  I  thought  once  he 
was  going  to  strangle,  lie  breathed  so  hard,  and  thru, 

as  a  customer  came  in,  he  said:  'Off  home  with 
.... 

I  didn't  >ee  anything  of  my  husband  until  late 
that  ni^ht,'  e<>ntinued  the  saloon-keeper's  wife.  'He 


248  STRONG  DRINK; 

was  alone  in  the  bar  and  had  to  stay  till  business 
was  over.  I  was  sitting  up  for  him,  but  John  was 
in  bed.  He  didn't  say  a  word ;  but  I  noticed  that 
he  hadn't  been  drinking,  and  that  gave  me  a  little 
heart.  In  the  morning  he  met  John  at  the  break- 
fast-table. I  had  been  dreading  this  meeting.  He 
didn't  speak  to  him,  but  two  or  three  times,  as  he  sat 
eating  in  a  silent,  moody  sort  of  way,  I  saw  him 
steal  a  curious  look  at  the  boy's  face.  He  hadn't 
half-finished  his  breakfast,  it  seemed  to  me,  when  he 
pushed  his  chair  away,  and  says  he :  "  John,  I  want 
you !"  and  went  out  of  the  dining-room  into  the 
passage.  John  got  almost  white,  but  went  out  and 
shut  the  door  after  him.  I  felt  dreadfully,  for  I 
didn't  know  what  was  going  to  happen.  In  about  a 
minute  John  came  back  alone.  The  color  was  all 
over  his  face  now,  and  there  was  a  great  light  in  his 
eyes.  "  Father  says  it's  best  now  that  it's  done,  and 
that  he'll  expect  me  to  keep  it."  I  was  such  a 
happy  woman,  and  cried  for  joy. 

"  'And  that  isn't  all,  ma'am,'  she  went  on.  '  Some- 
how my  husband  can't  get  over  it ;  and  he's  spoken 
so  kind  to  John  ever  since,  and  only  last  night  he 
^:ii<l :  "  Jane,  I  wish  I  could  see  my  way  clear  out  of 
this  business.  I  don't  like  it  at  all."  Oh,  if  he 
only  could  get  out  of  it !' 

"  *  Let  us  pray  that  the  Lord  will  make  all  plain 
before  him,'  said  the  lady  visitor.  And  then  she 
knelt  down  with  the  woman  and  her  two  young 
daughters,  and  prayed  for  the  husband  and  father 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  249 

with  such  earnestness  of  supplication  that  it  seemed 
to  them  that  God  must  and  would  hear  and  answer 
her  prayers.  And  even  while  she  prayed,  led  home 
hy  a  Providence  that  was  in  this  work,  and  governing 
,  the  man  stood  at  the  very  door  of  the  room 
in  which  the  petition  went  up,  and  heard  every  one  of 
its  carefully-chosen  and  reverently-uttered  sentences. 
Did  he  enter  the  room  all  broken  down?  No;  he 
went  quietly  away,  giving  no  sign,  but  with  an 
arrow  of  conviction  in  his  heart.  God  had  found  a 

•  >f  entrance,  and  was  uncovering  old  memories 
and  quickening  old  states,  and  calling  to  him  from 
away  down  among  the  innocent  things  of  his  child- 
hood. And  he  was  hearkening,  and  repenting,  and 

ing  a  truer  and  better  life  than  the  one  he  had 
been  leading.  It  was  not  long  before  the  change 
came ;  fur  the  good  will  is  never  long  in  finding  the 

way.  In  the  work  of  destroying  the  souls  and 
bodies  of  men  there  was  one  less ;  and  in  the  work 
of  service  and  restoration  one  more.  Nay,  might  I 

iy  many  more — for  the  duplication  and  increase 

•very  man's  good  or  evil  work  is  often  very 

"And  is  there  much  of  this  kind  of  work  going 
on?'  I  asked. 

'  Yes,"  he  replied,  "and  it  is  being  gradually 
shaped  into  a  system.  Mistakes  are  being  corrected; 
and  the  blind  enthusiasm  of  too  impetuous  and 
strong-willed  leaders  repressed.  The  quiet  intrusion 
that  takes  the  enemy  oil'  guard  is  surer  <>f  victory 


250  STRONG  DRINK; 

than  the  open  attack  for  which  the  blast  of  a  trum- 
pet lias  given  warning  to  be  ready.  A  besieged  city 
that  is  proof  against  assault,  may  be  reduced  to  capit- 
ulation through  the  cutting  off  of  supplies.  All  this 
is  being  seen  and  understood.  If  neither  by  direct 
effort  with  a  saloon-keeper,  nor  indirectly  through 
his  family,  he  can  be  induced  to  give  up  his  hurtful 
business,  then  a  thorough  work  of  temperance  re- 
form will  be  inaugurated  in  his  neighborhood,  and 
the  profits  of  his  business  be  reduced,  and  if  possi- 
ble destroyed,  through  the  loss  of  custom." 

"  Temperance  men  and  temperance  organizations 
have  been  trying  to  do  this  very  thing  for  over  fifty 
years,"  I  replied,  "  and  the  sale  of  liquor  has  in- 
creased instead  of  diminishing.  So  long  as  you  have 
the  saloons  you  will  have  the  customers.  My  faith 
in  this  thorough  work  of  temperance  reform  of  which 
you  speak,  is  not,  I  am  free  to  say,  very  great.  I 
well  remember  the  rise  and  progress  of  that  first 
great  tidal  wave  of  reform,  known  as  Washington- 
ianism,  which  went  sweeping  over  the  land.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  took  the  pledge  in  a  brief  period, 
and  we  looked  for  a  great  percentage  of  diminution 
in  the  traffic,  if  not  its  destruction  altogether.  But 
taverns  and  bar-rooms  went  on  flourishing  as  of  old. 
As  that  great  wave  began  to  subside,  another,  and  a 
feebler  wave,  that  of  Jeffersonianism,  succeeded,  and 
broke  upon  the  rock- bound  shores  of  license,  and 
usage,  and  appetite,  with  scarcely  a  manifest  im- 
pression. Then  the  work  of  a  more  general  organi- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  251 

zation  be^an,  and  the  order  of  the  Sons  of  Temper- 
ance was  established,  and  set  itself  to  the  task  of 
resistance.  The  promise  was  very  great.  It  looked 
as  if  we  were  going  to  have,  in  every  town  and 
neighborhood,  and  in  every  city  ward,  a  working 
force  of  temperance  men,  whose  leading  end  and 
eilnrt  would  be  the  extirpation  of  intemperance  from 
their  midst.  But  it  was  not  so.  Good  work  was 
done  in  many  places ;  and  thousands  were  protected 
and  saved  through  pledges  and  associations,  but  the 
lodge  meetings  fostered  a  love  of  social  ease  and  en- 
joyment, and  steadily  diminished  the  aggressive 
force  of  the  organization.  Then  the  Good  Templars 
came  to  the  front,  and  associated  women  in  the  work 
ami  administration  of  the  order.  But  the  same  gen- 
eral causes  which  had  wrought  their  enervating  effects 
on  the  Sons  of  Temperance,  were  in  operation  with 
the  Templars  and  kindred  organizations  as  well. 
Love  of  office  and  of  power  and  influence  crept  in, 
a-;  the -y  usually  do  where  there  are  titles  and  honors 
and  distinctions,  and  were  of  more  account  with 
many  than  the  high  purpose  of  the  order  itself. 
And  so  the  work  of  temperance  languished,  and  the 
enemy  went  on  increasing  in  strength  and  confidence. 
What  better  promise  now?  What  is  to  make  this 
movement  any  more  permanent  than  those  which 
have  gone  before  it?  Human  nature  is  the  same. 
Kntlitisiasm  will  die  of  exhaustion,  and  the  weari- 
ness in  well-doing,  which  is  sure  to  come,  sooner  or 
later,  make  idle  the  hands  that  are  now  so  bn-y. 


252  STRONG  DRINK; 

This  reform  work  is  so  slow.  We  scarcely  perceive 
its  progress,  and  are  often  in  doubt  whether  the 
movement  be  retrograde  or  onward.  I  must  own  to 
having  more  faith  in  legal  than  in  moral  suasion ;  in 
Maine  Laws  than  in  pledges." 

"  You  forgot  the  new  element,"  said  Granger. 

"What?" 

"  Prayer." 

"  Yes,  I  had  forgotten." 

"  This  is  a  religious  as  well  as  a  temperance  move- 
ment." 

"True." 

"And  the  effort  is  not  merely  to  save  men  and 
women  from  the  sin  of  drunkenness,  but  from  all 
other  sins.  It  is  on  a  higher  plane,  and  nearer  the 
true  sources  of  power.  There  is  less  of  self  in  it, 
and  more  of  God." 

Granger  spoke  with  great  seriousness ;  and  I  saw 
that  he  had  strong  faith  in  the  results  of  this  new 
effort  to  organize  a  force  that  should  have  larger 
success  than  any  which  had  hitherto  set  itself  to  do 
battle  with  intemperance. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TI I E  work  of  "  Gospel  Temperance,"  as  some 
began  to  call  this  latest  effort  to  weaken  and 
destroy  the  monster  evil  which  had  so  long  cursed 
the  land,  had  a  steady  growth.  Pious  women  in  all 
the  churches  began  to  take  part  hi  it,  and  to 
strengthen  its  effective  agencies.  Prayer  was  inces- 
sant, and  trusted  in  with  implicit  confidence.  There 
was  a  literal  acceptance  of  the  promise,  "That  if 
two  of  you  shall  agree  upon  earth  as  touching  any- 
thing that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for  them 
of  my  Father  which  is  in  Heaven."  They  believed 
in  the  faith  that  removes  mountains;  and  in  the 
of  Him  who  said,  "Ask  and  ye  shall  receive; 
and  ye  shall  find;  knock  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you."  And  when  they  met  in  His  name,  they 
had  an  assurance  that  He  was  in  the  midst  of  them. 
They  were  consecrating  themselves  to  the  work  of 
saving  souls  that  were  well-nigh  lost  Souls  so  far 
out  of  the  reach  of  common  Gospel  influences,  that 
even  the  churches  had  practically  ceased  to  rcgsird 
them  as  within  the  pale  of  salvation,  and  knew  that 
God's  power  to  save  could  be  given  them  in  the 
largest  measure ;  for  were  not  these  souls,  so  fearfully 
imperilled,  as  precious  to  Him  as  the  souls  of  any 
in  His  whole  universe  ? 
253 


254  STEOXG  DRINK; 

Never  had  the  poor,  degraded,  suffering  drunkard 
met,  since  his  sad  debasement,  with  such  influences 
as  came  to  him  now.  "  My  brother  "  fell  on  his  ears 
in  a  voice  so  tender  and  compassionate,  that  feelings, 
which  had  lain  dormant  for  years,  stirred  in  his 
heart  once  more.  A  hand  was  laid  on  him  so  gently 
and  kindly,  that  it  seemed  like  the  hand  of  a  sister, 
or  a  wife,  or  a  mother,  felt  in  the  long  ago.  And 
when  prayer  was  offered  for  him,  and  he  felt  him- 
self borne  up  to  the  throne  of  grace  on  the  sweet, 
and  tender,  and  pleading  voices  of  gentle  women, 
he  Jbrpke  all  down,  and  under  the  suddenly-kindled 
hope  of  being  rescued  from  his  sin  and  misery,  he 
lifted  his  poor,  broken  spirit  to  God  and  prayed  for 
help,  and  mercy,  and  forgiveness. 

Differ  as  we  may  about  the  philosophy  of  prayer, 
and  the  true  sources  of  its  power,  of  one  thing  we  may 
be  sure,  that  the  ear  of  God  is  open  to  the  cry  of  every 
sin-sick  soul,  if  it  is  made  in  sincerity  and  in  truth. 
As  to  the  answer,  that  will  depend  on  the  measure  of 
the  willingness  to  receive.  The  love  and  the  boun- 
tifulness  are  infinite  The  cry  of  the  lips  will  bring 
nothing;  the  cry  of  the  heart  everything  it  is  capable 
of  receiving ;  and  its  capacity  will  always  be  equal  to 
the  displacement  of  evil  in  the  life,  because  such  evil 
is  contrary  to  God's  will  and  Word,  and  obstructs 
His  influent  love.  The  growth  in  grace,  from  the 
first  moment  the  soul  turns  to  God  in  prayer,  and 
makes  its  first  sincere  effort  to  lead  a  new  spiritual 
life,  will  be  in  an  exact  ratio  to  its  resistance  and 


THE  CURSE  AND  T1IE  CURE.  255 

conquest  of  evil  on  the  plane  of  its  natural  life  in 
the  world  and  among  men. 

I': aver,  in  the  hands  of  these  women,  wrought 
marvels.  Men  who  had  been  drunkards  for  years, 
stopped  suddenly,  professed  faith  in  Christ,  joined 
the  church,  and  became  once  more  good  and  useful 
eiti/.ens.  So  quietly  was  all  this  done,  in  the  second 
stage  of  this  Gospel  temperance  work,  that  the 
general  public  heard  little  about  it,  and  knew  less. 
But  the  seed  was  being  sown  broadcast,  and  in  due 
time  the  promise  of  an  ampler  harvest  than  had  yet 
been  seen  was  apparent  on  every  side.  Many  men 
who  had  become  reformed  through  the  ministry  of 
prayer,  threw  themselves  into  the  work  of  rescuing 
the  fallen;  going  from  town  to  town,  and  by  their 
eloquent  appeals,  stirring  the  hearts  of  the  people, 
and  arousing  them  to  a  sense  of  their  duty  and  their 
danger. 

And  now,  one  after  another,  the  slumbering 
churches  began  to  awake  and  to  recognize  the  hand 
of  God  in  this  work,  and  to  give  it  countenance  and 
approval,  if  not  the  practical  support  it  yet  so  largely 
needed.  But  the  work  itself  went  on  chiefly  outside 
of  the  churches,  though  in  the  hands  of  the  most 
active  and  earnest  Christian  men  and  women  con- 
nected with  the  churches ;  for  it  was  nearer  to  hu- 
manity than  to  sectarian  conservatism,  and  drew  to  its 
aid  those  who  had  in  them  the  larger  measure  of  that 
Christianity  which  stoops,  as  Christ  stoops,  to  the 
lowest  and  the  vilest,  if  in  so  doing  he  may  save  them. 


256  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  I  do  not  understand  this  strange  indifference  of 
the  churches,"  said  I,  to  Granger,  one  day.  "  In 
temperance  work,  they  are  doing  little  or  nothing ; 
and  they  might  be  doing  so  much." 

"There  are  signs  of  better  things,"  he  replied. 
"  Let  us  be  patient  for  awhile.  The  time  is  not  far 
off,  I  trust,  when  every  society  that  calls  itself  a 
church,  will  have  its  special  praying  and  working 
band  of  women,  and  an  open  door  for  the  lowest 
and  the  vilest  to  come  in ;  when  the  heathen  who 
are  perishing  in  the  very  shadow  of  its  porches  will 
take  precedence  of  the  heathen  afar  off.  We  have 
cheering  intelligence  from  all  sides.  Almost  every 
day  we  hear  of  new  workers  coming  into  the  field, 
and  of  successes  everywhere.  In  some  places,  from 
one- third  to  two-thirds  of  the  whole  population  have 
signed  the  pledge,  to  the  joy  of  good  citizens  and 
the  consternation  of  liquor-dealers." 

"  If  we  could  have  anything  like  that  in  our  poor, 
rum-cursed  city !"  I  replied.  "  But  hope  is  vain.  In 
smaller  communities,  where  each  is  known  to  all, 
and  a  chain  of  interest  and  personal  influence  holds 
the  people  in  nearer  contact,  a  common  sentiment  or 
impulse  may  bear  them  in  a  single  direction.  But 
it  is  not  so  here.  Set  any  force  you  please  in  motion, 
and  its  impression  can  only  be  partial." 

"  We  hope  for  a  widely  different  result,"  Granger 
made  answer.  "Next  week  a  man  whose  power 
with  the  people  is  almost  a  marvel  and  a  mystery, 
will  come  from  the  West  to  our  city ;  and  then  an 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  C77?/:.  0-7 

effort  will  bo  made,  through  daily  and  nightly  relig- 
ious meetings,  to  get  up  such  a  temperance  revival 
as  has  never  been  seen  or  heard  of  in  the  land." 

I  smiled  at  his  ardor.  He  had  become  almost  an 
enthusiast  on  the  subject  of  temperance. 

"  We  shall  see,"  was  my  doubting  response. 

And  we  did  see.  The  man  came — this  new  apostle 
of  temperance.  He  was  not  learned,  but  had  largely 
the  gitl  of  persuasion  ;  was  not  so  eloquent  as  ready 
of  sjKMJch;  not  so  logical  as  impassioned;  moved  his 
audience's  not  so  much  by  the  clearness  of  a  well- 
1  argument,  as  by  the  force  of  fact  and  in- 
cident. He  was  easy  of  manner,  and  at  home  with 
the  people;  recognizing  in  the  lowliest  and  most 
lied  a  brother,  and  telling  the  poor  drunkard, 
whose  hand  he  held  so  tightly,  that  he  knew  all 
about  the  pit  in  which  his  feet  were  mired,  and  all 
about  the  way  of  deliverance.  "As  God  saved  me,  my 
brother,  He  will  save  you,"  was  ever  spoken  with 
that  sympathy  and  assurance  which  gives  speech 
a  |>  issage  to  the  heart.  From  the  very  commence- 
ment of  his  work,  Frahcis  Murphy  exercised  an 
influence  that  to  some  appeared  half-miraculous. 
The  halls  in  which  his  meefings  in  our  city  were 
held,  were  crowded  night  after  night  to  overflowing, 
hundreds  being  unable  to  gain  access.  In  the 
conduct  of  these  meetings,  there  were  no  particu- 
larly remarkable  features.  They  were  opened  with 
the  reading  of  Scripture  and  prayer,  followed  by 
singing.  T!i.  n  there  would  be  addresses  from 
17 


258  STRONG  DRINK; 

clergymen  and  others,  including  Mr.  Murphy ;  and 
speeches  and  experiences  from  reformed  men — the 
whole  interspersed  with  the  singing  of  temperance 
and  revival  hymns.  During  the  progress  of  the 
meetings,  and  at  their  close,  invitations  to  come  and 
sign  the  pledge  were  given  and  responded  to,  very 
many  coming  forward  each  night  and  taking  the 
pledge  of  total  abstinence;  the  number  soon  in- 
creasing from  hundreds  to  thousands.  Men  would 
enter  the  hall  so  badly  intoxicated  that  they  could 
scarcely  walk  straight,  and  before  leaving  sign  their 
names  to  a  pledge,  and  in  many  cases  keep  it.  It 
was  not  with  poor,  degraded  wretches  alone — the 
outcast  and  the  abandoned — that  these  meetings 
had  power.  Men  of  standing  and  education,  wlio 
were  beginning  to  feel  the  strength  of  an  appetite 
that  too  surely  betrays  to  ruin ;  lawyers,  mer- 
chants, physicians ;  the  representatives  of  all  con- 
ditions and  classes — alike  felt  the  warning  or  the 
persuasion  that  came  to  them,  and  alike  took 
heed. 

"  Will  it  last  ?"  was  my  question  after  the  weeks 
had  begun  gathering  into  months. 

"  Does  not  my  good  friend  live  too  close  to 
Doubting  Castle?"  returned  Granger,  to  whom  I 
had  addressed  the  inquiry.  He  was  already  deeply 
absorbed  in  the  exciting  movement. 

"  Perhaps.  But  we  hear  of  things  being  too  good 
to  last,  you  know." 

"  Things  may  be  too  bad  to  last ;  but  never  too 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  259 

good.     It  is  only  the  good  that  is  really  substan- 
tial," he  returned,  smiling. 

"  The  good  will  last,  of  course.  But  how  much 
is  really  genuine  in  all  this,  and  how  much  facti- 
tious ?  Of  the  scores  who  nightly  sign  the  pledge, 
and  are  pointed  to  God  as  the  One  who  alone  can 
give  them  strength  to  keep  it,  how  many  do  you 
think  will  stand?" 

"  God  only  knows,"  he  replied,  a  little  soberly, 
and  with,  I  thought,  a  slight  disturbance  in  his 
manner. 

"A  suddenly  inspired  good  resolution ;  a  cry  to 
God  for  help;  the  impression  of  an  inner  change 
which  may  be  nothing  more  than  a  feeling;  the 
signing  of  a  pledge — all  the  work  of  a  minute,  it 
may  be;  are  these  to  be  relied  upon  with  any  well- 
grounded  assurance  ?"  I  said.  "  The  man  is  here  to- 
night in  the  sphere  of  an  excitement  that  moves  him 
deeply.  He  sees,  as  he  has  not  seen  for  a  long  time, 
his  sin  and  wretchedness ;  the  pain  and  loss  to  him- 
self, and  the  wrongs  and.  sufferings  of  those  who 
love  him  or  are  dependent  on  him.  And  lie 
too,  a  way  of  escape,  and  hands  reached  out  with  a 
promise  of  help.  He  signs  the  pledge,  and  tries  to 
look  up  and  pray.  Hopeful  words  are  spoken  in 
his  ears.  He  is  pointed,  in  a  few  words,  to  Christ 
as  his  Saviour.  And  then  he  goes  out  alone,  hungry, 
it  may  be,  and  honu -Ic.-s,  to  sleep  in  the  street  or 
station-house.  AVhat  hope  for  him,  with  hi.s  ex- 
hausted nerves  and  gnawing  thirst?  He  wants  more 


2GO  STRONG  DRINK; 

than  pledge  or  prayer ;  he  wants  good  food,  shelter 
and  protection ;  and,  until  he  can  stand  alone,  a 
hand  to  hold  him  up ;  and  if  these  are  not  given,  it 
were  about  as  well  to  let  him  alone." 

As  I  spoke,  I  saw  the  shadows  that  were  falling 
over  Granger's  face  grow  deeper. 

"  We  have  not  forgotten  this,"  he  replied.  "  We 
have  a  relief  committee,  and  are  doing  what  we  can. 
Every  Sunday  morning,  a  breakfast  is  provided. 
Clothing,  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  procure  it,  is  dis- 
tributed, employment  obtained,  and  all  the  protec- 
tion in  our  power  to  throw  about  the  men  who  are 
trying  to  reform.  But  the  work  is  taking  on  dimen- 
sions so  far  beyond  what  we  had  anticipated,  that 
we  find  ourselves  without  sufficient  means  for  its 
thorough  prosecution.  We  give  our  time,  our  efforts 
and  our  money;  but  we  who  are  active  in  this  move- 
ment are  few  compared  with  the  thousands  who 
stand  looking  on,  wondering,  approving,  doubting  or 
criticising.  'What  is  a  Sunday-morning  breakfast?' 
said  a  gentleman  only  to-day.  *  Can  a  man  live  on 
a  single  meal  a  week?'  But  when  I  asked  him  to 
give  us  money,  that  we  might  minister  more  largely, 
his  answer  was  that  he  knew  where  better  to  dis- 
pense his  charity.  Perhaps  he  did,  and  I  shall  not 
judge  him.  '  It  isn't  so  much  praying,  as  food  and 
clothing  and  employment  that  are  needed,'  said  an- 
other. '  If  there  were  less  talking  and  canting,  and 
more  good,  solid  doing  for  these  poor  wretches,  the 
chances  in  their  favor  would  be  increased  ten  to  one.' 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  261 

And  yet  I  could  not  so  interest  him  in  their  behalf 
as  to  get  from  him  either  personal  or  material  aid." 

There  was  an  undertone  of  trouble  in  Granger's 
voice,  which  fell  to  a  heavy  sigh  in  the  closing  words 
of  hi*  hist  sentence. 

'  Prom  four  to  five  hundred  destitute  men  seeking 
aid,"  he  resumed,  "  and  our  resources  utterly  inade- 
quate to  the  demands  that  are  made  upon  us — hun- 
gry, luilf-clothed,  and  in  too  many  cases,  homeless 
men.  We  may  arrest  their  feet  by  Gospel  means; 
but  if  we  would  turn  their  steps  into  the  ways  of 
sobriety  and  hold  them  there,  we  must  meet  and  care 
for  them  on  a  lower  plane.  If  we  would  lift  them 
into  spiritual  safety,  we  must  .get  the  foundations  of 
natural  life  secure.  An  empty  stomach,  and  soiled 
and  ragged  and  scanty  clothing,  with  idleness  super- 
added,  are  not,  I  agree  with  you,  favorable  to  the 
growth  of  true  piety.  The  struggle  with  this  dread- 
i'ul  appetite  is  hard  enough  under  the  most  favorable 
conditions;  and,  therefore,  our  work  must  be  re- 
garded as  only  initiated  when,  by  force  of  these  new 
spiritual  influences,  we  have  been  able  to  draw  the 
unhappy  victims  of  intemperance  over  from  the 
enemy's  ground." 

As  we  talked  a  man  entered — I  was  sitting  in  Mr. 
Granger's  office — and  came  forward  in  a  hesitating, 
half-embarrassed  manner.  His  clothing  was  poor 
and  soiled,  Ills  person  unsightly,  and  his  face  that  of 
an  exhausted  inebriate.  He  stopped  when  a  few 
•sj  from  us,  and  said :  "  You  do  not  know  me." 


2G2  STRONG  DRINK; 

We  both  recognized  him  by  his  voice.  He  had 
been  a  conveyancer,  and  a  man  with  some  property; 
but  intemperate  habits  had  done  for  him  what  they 
too  surely  accomplish  for  nearly  all  who  indulge 
them. 

"  Yes,  I  know  you,  Hartley,"  Granger  answered, 
quickly,  rising  as  he  spoke,  and  grasping  the  man's 
hand.  He  held  it  for  some  moments,  looking  in- 
tently into  his  face.  "  Didn't  I  see  you  at  the  meet- 
ing in  Broad  Street,  last  night  ?"  he  asked,  while 
still  holding  his  hand. 

"  Yes,  I  was  there." 

"And  you  signed  the  pledge  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  After  I  heard  you  speak,  I  said,  if 
God  can  save  Granger,  He  can  save  me,  and  I'm 
going  to  try  this  new  way." 

"  God  can  and  will  save  you,  my  friend,"  was 
Granger's  warm  response.  "Sit  down  and  let  us 
talk  about  it." 

He  drew  Hartley  into  a  chair,  and  sat  down  in 
front  of  him. 

"  Now,  tell  me  all  about  yourself."  There  was  a 
genuine  interest  in  his  voice;  and  its  effect  upon 
this  poor  wreck  of  a  man,  was  to  send  a  glow  to  his 
face,  and  cause  his  dull  eyes  to  kindle.  "  How  is  it 
with  you ;  and  what  the  chances  are  for  getting  on 
your  feet  again.  Tell  me  all  about  it.  You  signed 
the  pledge  last  night  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  signed  at  the  meeting  in  Broad  Street. 
And  you  were  standing  just  in  front  of  me,  and 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  2G3 

looking  at  mo;  and  I  hoard  you  say,  'Trust  in  God, 
my  brother.  Look  to  Him,  and  pray  to  Him,  and 
will  give  you  strength  to  keep  this  pledge.'  You 
.siid  it  to  me ;  but  I  saw  that  you  didn't  know  me. 
I  wanted  to  speak  to  you,  and  to  tell  you  who  I  was; 
and  I  was  pressing  forward  when  some  one  drew  you 
away,  and  then  I  couldn't  get  near  you  again.  I 
waited  at  the  door  until  you  came  out;  but  you  were 
till  king  with  a  gentleman,  and  while  I  hesitated  about 
interrupting  you,  you  passed  down  the  street,  and  I 
was  left  standing  alone." 

"  Where  did  you  go  after  that?"  asked  Granger. 

"  I  had  nowhere  to  go.  In  this  whole  city,  there 
was  no  place  that  I  could  call  my  home — no  house 
in  which  I  could  claim  the  right  to  lay  my  head. 
My  wife  died  three  years  ago ;  and  my  only  child  is 
with  my  mother,  who  lives  in  a  neighboring  town. 

I  am  alone  and  friendless." 

"No;  not  friendless,"  said  Granger,  his  voice 
Btruggling  with  his  feelings.  "There  is  One  who 
stu'ki'th  closer  than  a  brother.  He  is  your  friend." 

The  poor  man  looked  down  at  his  wretched  gar- 
ments in  a  way  that  it  was  not  hard  to  understand. 

II  face  did  not  brighten  perceptibly  under  this  last 
assurance. 

"  Where  did  you  sleep  last  night?"  I  inquired. 

"  I  would  have  gone  to  one  of  the  police-stations, 
but  was  afraid  of  being  sent  to  the  House  of  Correc- 
tion. You  see  I  had  taken  the  pledge,  and  in  a  new 
way,  and  I  was  going  to  try  to  keep  it,  if  God  would 


264  STRONG  DRINK; 

indeed  help  me,  as  it  kept  coming  to  me  that  He 
would.  So  I  walked  out  to  Fairmount,  and  as  the 
night  was  dark,  I  found  it  easy  to  hide  awaj  in  a 
place  where  the  police  wouldn't  find  me,  and  there 
I  slept  till  morning.  I  got  some  breakfast,  and  have 
been  trying  ever  since  to  find  something  to  do.  But 
it's  no  use.  I'm  not  a  fit  object  to  be  in  anybody's 
place  of  business." 

And  again  he  cast  down  a  dreary  look  at  his  un- 
sightly clothing. 

"  Of  course  you  are  not,"  said  Mr.  Granger.  "  I'm 
sorry  you  didn't  speak  to  me  last  night.  And  now, 
if  you  are  in  real  earnest,  Mr.  Hartley,  we'll  see  if 
something  can't  be  done  for  you." 

"  God  knows  that  I'm  in  earnest,  sir,"  he  said, 
with  a  sudden  trembling  eagerness.  "  I  lay  awake 
so  long  last  night,  thinking  over  my  whole  life, 
and  many  times  asking  God  to  help  me  to  live 
a  better  one  in  future.  But  I'm  down  so  low 
that  it  s"eems  as  if  there  was  no  way  for  me  to  get 
up  all  by  myself.  I'm  like  a  man  in  the.  sea 
who  will  drown  unless  somebody  throws  him  a 
rope." 

"  You  shall  have  the-  rope."  Granger  spoke  in 
no  uncertain  voice. 

It  was  plain  from  Hartley's  exhausted  and  nervous 
state,  that  he  was  in  no  condition  to  enter  at  once 
upon  any  employment.  He  wanted  rest,  quiet  and 
protection ;  with  healthy  mental  surroundings,  and 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  nutritious  food.  \Ve  knew 


THE  CURSE  AyD  THE  Cl  2G5 

of  but  one  place  in  the  city  where  these  could  be 
secured;  and  there  we  took  him. 

Two  weeks  in  the  Franklin  Home,  and  you  would 
known  the  man.  Even  before  the  lapse  of 
that  time  he  had  found  employment  in  the  office  of 
a  conveyancer  wlio  had  been  with  him  as  a  boy,  and 
who  now  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his 
old  preceptor. 

"  I  have  had  one  of  the  sweetest  passages  of  my 
life,"  said  Granger,  whom  I  met  a  few  weeks  after- 
wards. "  I  was  in  Chester  day  before  yesterday, 
win- re  I  went  to  make  an  address  at  one  of  the  meet- 
ings now  being  held  in  that  town.  In  the  audience, 
and  sitting  close  to  the  platform,  I  noticed  an  old 
lady,  and  a  young  girl  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
both  plainly  dressed,  but  with  something  in  their 
that  caused  my  eyes  to  turn  towards  them  fre- 
(ju< ntly.  There  was  a  look  of  subdued  and  patient 
trouble  in  the  face  of  the  elder;  and  a  grave  quiet 
in  that  of  the  younger.  While  I  spoke  their  eyes 
did  not  seem  to  be  off  of  me  for  a  moment.  During 
my  address  I  mentioned  Hartley's  case,  referring  to 
him  with  some  particularity.  As  I  progressed,  I 
noticed  that  the  old  lady  began  to  lean  forward  with 
an  air  of  deep  interest,  if  not  eager  expectancy ;  and 
I  fancied  that  the  girl  by  her  side  was  turning  pale. 
All  at  once  it  Hashed  on  me  that  these  might  be  the 
mother  and  daughter  of  the  man  whose  rescue  I  was 
riliin^,  and  the  impression  was  so  strong  that  I 
held  back  the  name  of  Hartley  as  it  was  coming  to 


266  STRONG  DRINK; 

my  lips,  and  closed  my  relation  of  the  case  with  the 
words :  '  Another  soul  saved  through  the  power  of 
that  Divine  strength  which  is  freely  given  to  all  who 
will  receive  it.' 

"At  the  close  of  the  meeting  I  saw  that  the  two 
women  were  lingering  in  their  seats  while  the  audi- 
ence slowly  retired;  and  that  their  eyes  were  turned 
towards  the  platform  where  I  remained  talking  with 
some  members  of  the  committee  which  had  the 
meetings  in  charge.  They  were  almost  alone  when 
I  came  down  and  commenced  moving  along  the  aisle. 
'  May  I  speak  a  word  with  you  ?'  said  the  elder  of 
the  two  ladies,  laying  her  hand  at  the  same  time  on 
my  arm.  I  saw  a  quiver  in  her  face.  *  What  is  the 
name  ?'  I  asked.  '  Mrs.  Hartley,'  she  replied,  softly, 
and  as  if  half  afraid  to  utter  her  own  name.  Then 
I  knew  it  all,  and  my  heart  gave  a  sudden  bound  of 
gladness.  Dear  old  mother.  I  felt  like  putting 
my  arm  about  her  and  crying  out :  '  This  thy  son 
that  was  dead  is  alive  again !'  But  I  kept  a  guard 
on  my  lips,  not  knowing  how  the  good  news,  if  bro- 
ken too  suddenly,  might  affect  her ;  and  taking  her 
hand,  said :  '  I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  Mrs.  Hartley.' 
'  I  would  like  to  ask  you  a  question,  sir,'  she  said, 
beginning  now  to  show  considerable  agitation.  '  First,' 
I  replied,  '  let  me  ask  you  one.  Have  you  a  son 
named  Lloyd  Hartley  ?' 

"  Her  startled  face  became  white  as  ashes ;  and 
she  caught  hold  of  me  with  a  tight  grasp  of  the 
hand.  '  Thank  God  for  his  deliverance,'  I  said,  softly. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  C  /  2G7 

1 1 1  •;•  slender  form  sunk  down  upon  tlie  seat  by  which 
she  was  standing,  and  her  head  drooped  over  her 
breast.  She  was  very  still,  and  I  knew  that  her 
heart  was  lifting  itself  in  thankfulness  to  God.  '  In 
the  strength  of  Him  who  conquered  death  and  hell, 
your  son  shall  stand  now  as  a  rock/  said  I,  bending 
to  her  ear.  '  He  is  trusting  no  more  in  his  own 
weakness,  but  in  the  power  of  the  Infinite  and  the 
Almighty.  I  know  what  that  dependence  means ; 
and  because  of  this  knowledge  I  have  hope  for  your 
son.'  '  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !'  came  in 
a  low,  tender  out-breathing  of  gladness  from  her 
lips.  Her  head  was  still  bowed  and  her  face  hidden. 
Then,  as  she  reached  up  one  of  her  hands,  she  whis- 
pered :  '  Darling,  where  are  you  ?'  and  in  a  moment 
after  her  arm  was  about  the  neck  of  her  grand- 
daughter; and  the  two  clung  together,  weeping 
silently.  And  all  was  so  quiet  and  unobtrusive,  that 
the  people  passed  out  scarcely  noticing  anything  un- 
usual until  we  were  left  almost  alone. 

" '  I  have  been  praying  for  him  night  and  day 
ever  since  the  temperance  revival  began/  said  tho 
happy  mother,  as  I  sat  with  her  that  evening  in  her 
home,  replying  to  her  questions,  and  giving  her  all 
the  assurances  in  my  power.  'And  ( Jod  has  an- 
swered my  prayers.  And  when  He  eaves,  it  is  no 
half  work,  but  a  true  salvation.  I  have  no  hope  in 
anything  else.  My  son  has  taken  pledge  after 
pledge;  has  made  and  tried  to  keep  good  resolu- 
tions over  and  over  again ;  but  only  to  fall,  and 


268  STRONG  DRINK; 

each  time  to  a  lower  and  a  lower  depth.  If  lie  had 
put  his  trust  in  God,  if  he  had  prayed  for  grace  and 
strength,  and  entered,  as  you  tell  me  he  is  now 
doing,  upon  a  Christian  life,  it  would  have  heen 
far  different.  It  is  the  Christian  life  that  saves; 
and  it  saves  from  drunkenness  as  well  as  from 
every  other  sin ;  for  all  sin  must  be  removed  be- 
fore there  can  be  a  dwelling-place  for  Christ  in  the 
soul.' 

"  I  have  felt  happier  and  stronger  ever  since," 
Granger  continued.  "  It  was  really  touching  to  see 
this  mother's  confidence.  She  had  been  praying 
and  weeping  before  God  night  and  day  for  weeks — 
pleading  for  this  son  that  he  might  be  turned  from 
the  evil  of  his  ways.  She  did  not  even  know  where 
he  was ;  but  she  knew  that  her  Lord  and  Master 
knew.  And  now,  when,  as  she  believed,  her 
prayers  had  been  answered  in  his  conversion,  she 
rejoiced  and  was  confident.  The  Everlasting  Arms 
were  about  him,  and  he  would  dwell  secure." 

"  Happy  faith !"  I  made  answer.  "  May  its 
foundations  never  be  removed." 

"I  think  they  never  will,"  Granger  said.  "If 
her  prayers  did  not  avail  just  in  the  order  of  her 
belief,  they  still  availed,  and  her  son  has  been 
brought  within  the  fold ;  and  there  is,  in  the  spirit 
he  manifests,  something  that  gives  me  confidence  in 
his  stability." 

"  Have  you  told  Hartley  about  this  meeting  with 
his  mother  and  daughter  ?"  I  asked. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  2G9 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  they  have  been  up  to  the  city  to 
see  him." 

"A  happy  re-union." 

"  You  would  have  said  so  if  you  had  seen  them 
together.  Dear  old  lady !  The  love,  and  tender- 
ness, and  joy-subdued  that  were  in  her  face  as  she 
.sit  and  looked  at  her  son,  to  whom  much  of  the  old 
true  manliness  of  expression  and"  bearing  has  al- 
ready commenced  coming  back,  was  beautiful  and 
touching  to  witness.  It  will  not  be  a  long  time,  I 
think,  before  there  will  be  one  home  for  them  all, 
and  that  a  happy  one." 

And  it  was  not  long. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

OTKEKING  cases  of  reformation,  like  the  one 
Kp  related,  yet -varying  as  to  the  incidents,  were  of 
daily  occurrence.  Men  who  had  been  for  years 
regarded  as  hopeless  drunkards,  made  a  new  effort 
to  struggle  out  of  the  swift  waters  that  were  bearing 
them  to  ruin,  and  caught  eagerly  at  the  new  means 
of  rescue  that  were  offered.  Families  long  sepa- 
rated were  united  again ;  and  men  who  had  been 
dead  weights  and  burdens  upon  society,  became 
once  more  good  .and  useful  citizens. 

"A  glorious  work !"  was  heard  on  all  sides.  But 
the  men  who  were  in  the  midst  of  it — who  came 
into  direct  contact  with  the  scores  and  hundreds  of 
wretched  creatures  who  had  sounded  the  lowest 
depths  of  misery  and  degradation,  who  were  home- 
less, friendless,  penniless,  and  mentally,  morally  and 
physically  so  enervated  as  to  be  scarcely  capable  of 
an  effort  in  the  direction  of  self-recovery,  found 
themselves  confronted  with  a  task  of  almost  appall- 
ing magnitude.  What  was  to  be  done  with  and  for 
these  men,  whose  idle  hands  were  held  out  in 
piteous  appeal  for  work,  and  whose  hungry  faces 
and  dirty  and  tattered  garments  .pleaded  mutely  for 
relief?  Nightly  the  great  meeting  hall  was 
270 


T11K  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  271 

crowded  to  overflowing,  and  nightly  the  increase 
went  on. 

"  It  is  one  tiling,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Granger,  as  I 
walked  home  with  him  from  one  of  these  meetings, 
"to  reap  this  groat  harvest,  but  quite  another  thing 
to  garner  and  preserve  the  grain.  I  sadly  fear  that 
much  of  it  will  never  be  gathered  out  of  the  field. 
The  work  is  too  much  en  masse,  and  too  little  in 
detail.  The.  numbers  who  sign  the  pledge  every 
ni<;ht  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  measure  of  the  good 
that  is  being  done." 

"  You  must  bear  in  mind,"  he  replied,  "  that  all 
who  sigh  at  these  meetings  are  not  the  utterly  desti- 
tute and  homeless ;  nor  of  those  who  have  lost  the 
power  to  control  their  appetites.  The  larger  pro- 
portion are  men  engaged  in  work  or  business,  to 
whom  so  strong  a  conviction  of  danger  has  come 
that  they  take  the  pledge  for  protection  and  safety, 
of  these  will  find  elements  of  strength  and 
encouragement  in  their  homes  and  among  friends." 

"True;  but  if  it  be  as  was  said  to-night,  that 
there  are  from  four  to  five  hundred  of  the  destitute 
and  friendless  class  who  have  signed  the  pledge, 
and  who  must  have  something  more  to  rest  upon 
than  the  singing,  and  talking,  and  exhortations  to 
stand  fast,  which  they  get  at  these  nightly  meet- 
ings, is  it  not  plain  that  the  loss  between  the  reap- 
ing and  the  garnering  is  going  to  be  very  great?" 

"  You  cannot  feel  the  burden  of  that  thought 
more  heavily  than  we  who  are  in  the  heart  of  this 


272  STRONG  DRINK; 

work.  But  its  growth  has  been  more  rapid  than 
we  had  anticipated,  and  its  proportions  have  already 
assumed  a  magnitude  for  which  we  were  not  pre- 
pared. The  people  are  looking  on  and  wondering. 
Crowds  flock  nightly  to  witness  the  progress  of  the 
movement;  but  how  few  come  up  to  our  help. 
"What  would  it  be  for  a  score  of  our  rich  citizens  to 
establish  for  our  use  a  depot  of  clothing  from  which 
we  might  draw  at  will,  and  so  be  able  to  take  off 
the  rags  of  such  men  as  we  found  to  be  in  earnest 
about  reform,  and  send  them .  forth  in  sightly  gar- 
ments, that  they  might  be  in  a  condition  to  apply 
for  and  get  employment  ?  Or  what  for  the  churches 
in  our  city — over  four  hundred  in  number — to  do 
the  same  thing  ?" 

"  Is  nothing  really  being  done  to  help  and  save 
these  poor  creatures  ?  When  the  last  hymn  is 
sung,  and  the  benediction  said,  and  the  lights  put 
out,  does  all  care  for  them  cease  ?  Is  there  nothing 
more  until  to-morrow  night — and  then  only  this 
general  work,  which  merely  brings  the  individual  to 
the  front  for  a  little  season,  and  then  lets  him  drill 
out  of  sight,  his  special  needs  unrecognized  and  un- 
provided for?" 

"  If  you  will  come  to  my  office  at  three  o'clock 
to-morrow,  I  will  try  to  give  an  answer  to  your  ques- 
tion," Granger  replied.  "  I  must  now  take  the  next 
car  that  passes  and  get  home  as  quickly  as  I  can,  as 
it  is  growing  late." 

I  called  at  his  office  at  the  hour  mentioned. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TIIE  CUIii:.  273 

"  There  is  other  Christian  temperance  work  going 
on  in  our  city  besides  that  remarkable  exhibition  of 
it  whic-h  is  known  as  the  Murphy  movement,"  he 
said.  "  Work  about  which  the  public  knows  little, 
but  which,  in  its  influence  on  that  particular  class 
about  which  we  were  speaking  yesterday,  is  accom- 
plishing a  vast  amount  of  good.  I  am  going  to 
answer  your  question  of  last  evening  by  showing 
jou  a  phase  of  this  work — unobtrusive,  yet  very 
fllirtive — and  when  you  see  it,  you  will  know  that, 
while  the  hands  of  the  reapers  are  strong  and  the 
harvest  great,  they  who  gather  and  garner  are  not 
idle." 

I  walked  with  Granger  for  a  number  of  blocks, 
talking  by  the  way.  As  we  left  his  office  he  re- 
marked :  "  You  might  have  known  that  in  a  work 
like  this  the  hands  of  the  women  would  not  be  idle ; 
nor  the  spirit  that  moved  the  late  'Crusaders'  dead. 
There  has  only  been  a  change  of  front,  with  a  more 
guarded  movement  upon  the  enemy,  and  less  expen- 
diture of  war  material.  You  do  not  find  them 
so  much  in  the  noisy  front  of  battle,  as  where  the 
wounded  are  left  on  the  field  or  gathered  in  tent  and 
hospital." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  I  asked,  "  that  there  is  another 
movement,  parallel  to  this  one  which  is  attracting  so 
much  attention,  now  going  on  in  our  city?" 

"  Yes;  wholly  independent,  yet  in  complete  har- 
mony therewith.     Two  sets  of  reapers  are  in  the 
same  field ;  but  with  one  there  are  better  facilities 
•  18 


274  STRONG  DRINK; 

for  gleaning  and  garnering  than  with  the  other. 
Women  draw  more  closely  to  the  individual  than 
men ;  have  more  pity,  and  sympathy,  and  faith  in 
humanity ;  more  practical  trust  in  God,  and  a  more 
absolute  belief  in  the  power  and  efficacy  of  prayer. 
There  is  a  marked  contrast  between  their  meetings 
and  the  vast  assemblages  you  have  attended.  The 
sphere  is  quieter,  and  the  services  held  closer  to  the 
order  of  religious  worship.  There  are  fewer  spec- 
tators, and,  I  think,  a  more  complete  singleness  of 
purpose  with  those  who  are  giving  themselves  to  the 
work.  What  we,  as  men,  are  doing,  is  extra  to  our 
common  life-work.  The  largest  part  of  our  time 
and  thought  is  devoted  to  business  or  professional 
duties ;  and  we  can  give  only  our  odds  and  ends  of 
leisure  to  extra  public  service  and  the  duties  of  chari- 
ty. It  is  different  with  many  of  the  women  who 
are  taking  the  lead  in  this  Gospel  temperance  work. 
Heart  and  mind  are  absorbed  in  it.  It  is  almost  as 
much  their  daily  thought  and  care  as  business  is  to 
the  merchant,  or  the  interests  of  his  clients  to  the 
lawyer.  We  can,  by  single  strong  efforts,  move  the 
masses  in  this  or  that  direction ;  can  influence  and 
direct  public  sentiment,  and  even  set  great  tidal 
waves  of  reform  in  motion ;  but  for  the  gathering  of 
results,  we  have  little  time,  and,  it  may  be,  little  in- 
clination ;  and  results  are  too  often  left  to  take  care 
of  themselves." 

We  talked  until  we  came  in  front  of   a  small 
church  in  a  thickly  populated  part  of  the  town,  when 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  275 

Granger  paused  with  the  words,  "  In  here,"  and  we 
passed  through  a  small  vestibule  to  a  room  capable 
of  holding  from  two  to  three  hundred  persons. 
Nearly  every  seat  was  occupied.  We  were  conducted 
to  chairs  set  in  the  space  fronting  the  reading-desk, 
and  on  being  seated  I  had  an  opportunity  to  look  at 
the  audience,  which  was  composed  of  men  and  wo- 
men ;  the  men  largely  outnumbering  the  women.  It 
took  but  a  glance  to  tell  who  and  from  whence  most 
of  these  men  were.  Lives  of  sin  and  suffering ;  of 
degradation  and  crime ;  of  abused  and  wasted  man- 
hood had  left  their  disfiguring  tokens  on  nearly 
every  countenance  before  me.  Half  a  dozen  women 
occupied  the  small  platform,  on  which  the  reading- 
desk  stood.  They  were  singing — 

"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly," 

as  we  entered,  most  of  the  congregation  taking  part. 
My  eyes  ran  over  the  strange  assembly,  looking 
from  face  to  face,  and  trying  to  read  each  varied 
expression.  With  scarcely  an  exception,  you  saw  a 
deep,  and,  in  some  cases,  a  most  pathetic  earnestness. 
At  the  close  of  the  hymn,  one  of  the  women  arose, 
and  said,  in  an  easy,  familiar  way,  but  with  a  tender, 
penetrating  solemnity  in  her  voice :  "And  with  such 
a  refuge,  how  safe !  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul.  The 
love  of  Jesus  I  Of  the  all-compassionate  and  the 
all-powerful.  Think  of  it !  Come  to  this  Saviour, 
His  arms  are  open  to  receive  you.  Comfort,  support, 


276  STEONG  DRINK; 

defense ;  all  these  shall  be  yours.  Under  the  shadow 
of  His  wing  you  shall  dwell  in  safety." 

There  was  a  deep  hush  in  the  assembly  ;  a  bend- 
ing forward  to  hearken,  and  a  profound  solemnity 
on  most  of  the  faces.  You  saw  eyes  grow  wet,  and 
lips  move  in  silent  prayer. 

"And  now,"  said  the  gentle  speaker,  after  a  pause, 
"  we  want  to  hear  from  as  many  of  you  as  can  bear 
testimony  to  the  saving  power  of  Him  who  has  taken 
your  feet  out  of  the  miry  clay  and  set  them  upon  a 
rock.  Speak  with  brevity  that  we  may  have  a 
multitude  of  witnesses." 

She  sat  down  and  a  man,  whose  face  had  been 
holding  my  eyes  for  some  moments,  arose  from  his 
seat.  What  could  one  with  such  a  countenance  have 
to  say  about  the  saving  power  of  Christ,  I  thought. 
His  voice  trembled  a  little  as  he  began : 

"  He  has  taken  my  feet  out  of  the  pit  and  set 
them  on  solid  ground ;  blessed  be  His  name.  I've 
been  a  dreadful  hard  drinker.  Until  six  weeks  ago, 
I  don't  think  I  had  drawn  a  sober  breath  for  ten 
years.  My  wife  left  me  in  despair  more  than  three 
years  ago;  and  then  I  didn't  care  for  anything. 
When  I  heard  about  the  Murphy  meetings  and  what 
wonderful  things  were  being  done,  I  thought  I'd  go 
and  see  what  it  meant.  Somehow,  with  the  singing, 
and  the  way  Mr.' Murphy  talked,  I  got  all  broken 
up,  and  when  he  told  us  that  if  we'd  take  the  pledge 
and  trust  in  God  to  help  us  keep  it,  we  could  stand 
just  as  well  as  he  had  stood,  I  said,  I'll  try.  And  I 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURR  277 

did  try,  and,  blessed  be  God !  I've  been  able  to  keep 
my  pledge.  I  don't  know  how  it  might  have  been 
if  I  hadn't  come  to  these  meetings.  I've  found  work, 
and  I'm  trying  to  make  another  home.  It  isn't 
much  of  a  home  as  yet — only  a  single  room — but 
my  wife  is  so  happy.  And  we've  got  something  in 
that  home  we  never  had  before.  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  it  is?" 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  then  in  a  lower  voice 
said :  "  Our  Saviour." 

As  he  sat  down,  the  leader  of  the  music  touched 
the  organ  keys,  and  a  single  verse  from  a  well- 
known  hymn  was  sung : 

"  Saviour,  like  a  shepherd  lead  us. 

Much  we  need  Thy  tender  care ; 
In  Thy  pleasant  pastures  feed  us, 
For  our  use  Thy  folds  prepare ; 

Blessed  Jesus ! 
Thou  hast  bought  us,  Thine  we  are." 

As  the  singing  ceased,  I  heard  the  voice  of  a 
woman  in  the  audience,  and  turned  in  the  direction 
from  which  it  came.  I  saw  a  jv*orn  and  sallow  luce, 
and  a  slender  form,  plainly  but  cleanly  attired. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  said  the  speaker,  "  that  I've 
•jot  in  v  husband  again,  after  having  lost  him  because 
of  drink  for  years  and  years.  And  this  time  I'm 
going  to  keep  him,  for  God  has  converted  his  soul. 
Oh,  bless  the  Lord!  Bless  the  Lord!"  her  v«»uv 
rising  into  almost  a  pa-s innate  outburst. 

"  Yes,  bless  the  Lord,  my  sister,"  responded  the 
lady  who  had  direction  of  the  incrting.  "For 


278  STRONG  DRINK; 

when  He  finds  the  lost  ones,  He  can  keep  their 
feet  from  wandering  any  more." 

Another  hymn,  and  then  another  short  speech. 
And  so  for  an  hour  the  speaking  and  the  singing 
went  on,  the  interest  not  flagging  for  a  moment. 
Men  told  of  the  awful  slavery  from  which  they  had 
escaped  through  the  power  of  God,  and  of  the  new 
strength  which  had  come  to  them  in  answer  to 
prayer,  with  a  positiveness  that  had  in  it  an  ele- 
ment of  conviction  for  the  intently  listening  hearers. 
Some  had  been  standing  safe  in  the  midst  of  tempta- 
tion for  only  a  few  days,  some  for  weeks,  and  some 
for  months.  Many  had  already  united  themselves 
with  one  or  another  religious  society,  and  were 
receiving  that  protection  and  strength  which  comes 
from  Christian  fellowship. 

"A  good  Christian  brother  has  been  holding  on 
to  me  ever  since  I  took  the  pledge,"  said  one. 
"  May  God  reward  him !  If  he  hadn't  held  so 
tightly,  I  don't  know  what  might  have  happened ; 
I  was  so  miserable  and  helpless.  But  I'm  getting 
stronger  and  stronger,  and  now  I'm  trying  to  help 
the  weak  ones." 

Said  another :  "  Thank  God  for  these  good  Chris- 
tian women.  One  of  them  found  me  not  long  ago 
in  the  hands  of  a  policeman.  I'd  been  drinking  in 
a  saloon,  and  got  into  a  quarrel  with  the  bur- 
keeper,  who  called  an  officer.  Just  as  I  was  dragged 
out  upon  the  pavement,  a  woman  came  by,  and  she 
stopped  and  said  to  the  policeman :  '  What's  the 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  279 

mat:  What's  this  man  been  doing?'  She 

spoke  so  gently,  and  yet  with  something  so  like 
authority  in  her  voice,  that  he  let  go  of  my  collar. 
'Drunk  and  quarrelsome,'  he  answered,  gruffly. 
'Oh,  I  see,'  she  returned.  'They've  made  him 
cra/.y  with  drink,  and  then  turned  him.  over  to 
you.'  '  Something  of  that  sort,'  said  the  policeman, 
speaking  more  respectfully.  Then  she  said,  '  Sup- 
pose you  let  me  have  this  case.  I  shouldn't  won- 
der if  I  could  do  a  great  deal  better  with  it  than 
you  can.'  The  officer  stood  for  a  little  while  look- 
ing puzzled ;  and  I  was  puzzled,  too,  for  the  liquor 
was  beginning  to  go  out  of  my  head.  *  What  will 
you  do  with  him  ?'  he  asked.  '  Try  to  make  a  sober 
man  out  of  him.'  At  this  he  laughed,  and  said,  '  If 
you  can  make  a  sober  man  out  of  Jack  Brady,  all 
ri^ht.  Go  ahead  and  try.  It'll  be  the  hardest  job 
you  ever  took.'  But  she  didn't  find  it  so.  .1  don't 
know  how  it  was,  but  the  very  minute  I  heard  her 
say  that,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  stop  drinking. 

policeman  went  on,  and  she  stood  and  talked 
to  me  for  a  good  while,  and  told  me  about  these 
meetings,  and  how  easy  it  would  be  to  lead  a  better 
life  if  I  would  come  and  try  to  get  help  from  above. 
I'd  never  been  talked  to  like  that  before.  It  seenu-d 
so  strange  to  have  anybody  care  for  me,  and  to  seem 
s<>  anxious  about  me.  '  Please  God,  I'll  come,'  said 
I.  And  I  did  come.  It  seemed  as  if  I  couldn't  wait 
for  the  hour  next  day.  And  when  I  entered  that 

.  there  stood  the  lady,  just  where  she's  standing 


280  STRONG  DRINK; 

now,  by  the  reading-desk.  She  was  speaking,  and 
as  her  voice  fell  on  my  ears  like  the  voice  of  an  old 
friend,  my  heart  began  to  beat  heavy,  and  I  got  all 
into  a  tremble.  Would  she  know  me  ?  I  saw  her 
eyes  go  searching  about  the  room  as  she  talked,  but 
if  she  was  looking  for  me  she  didn't  make  me  out. 
I  went  up  as  close  to  the  desk  as  I  could  get,  and 
sat  there  while  the  singing  and  talking  and  praying 
went  on.  Not  for  a  minute  did  I  take  my  eyes 
away  from  her.  All  at  once  as  she  looked  at  me 
hard  I  saw  her  face  brighten  up,  and  I  knew  that 
she  had  seen  me.  In  a  little  while  she  came  and 
sat  down  by  my  side  and  took  my  hand,  and  said, 
just  for  my  ear  alone,  '  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you  here, 
Mr.  Brady.'  You  see  she  hadn't  forgotten  my 
name.  *  I've  been  looking  for  you  ever  since  the 
meeting  opened.  You're  going  to  sign  the  pledge, 
of  course ;  and,  better  still,  give  your  heart  to  Jesus. 
And  then  what  a  happy  man  you  will  be.'  And  I 
did  sign  the  pledge,  and  I  did  give  my  heart  to  Jesus. 
And  I'm  one  of  the  happiest  men  in  this  room  to- 
day." 

As  the  meeting  drew  to  a  close,  requests  for  prayer 
were  sent  up  in  writing,  or  asked  for  verbally.  A 
mother  asked  for  prayers  for  an  intemperate  son  ;  a 
wife  for  an  intemperate  husband ;  a  sister  for  two 
brothers  who  were  in  great  danger  of  becoming 
drunkards ;  a  reformed  man  that  he  might  find  his 
wife  and  children,  from  whom  he  had  not  heard  for 
two  years ;  the  wife  of  a  tavern-keeper,  that  her 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TITE'CURK 

husband  might  be  convicted  of  sin,  and  led  to 
abandon  his  dreadful  business;  for  a  sick  wife  with 
a  dnmken  husband ;  for  a  daughter  whose  father 
was  intemperate. 

While  these  requests  were  being  made,  a  young 
woman — she  did  not  look  over  twenty-six  or  seven 
years  of  age — arose  and  said :  "  My  heart  is  so  full, 
Christian  friends,  that  I  can't  keep  silent.  I  want 
to  tell  what  great  things  prayer  can  do.  I've  got  a 
husband  and  two  little  children.  My  husband  took 
to  drinking,  and  it  'most  killed  me.  He  was  so  good 
and  kind  before;  but  now  he  got  cross  and  ugly, 
and  wouldn't  bear  a  word  from  me.  It  was  getting 
worse  and  worse".  He'd  stay  out  late  at  night  and 
cume  home  so  much  in  liquor  that  he  didn't  know 
anything.  One  day  I  said  to  his  mother,  'If  Tom 
s  on  in  this  way,  I  shall  have  to  leave  him  and 
iro  home  to  father.'  And  then  she  cried,  and  said, 
'  Don't  do  that,  Mary.  He'll  go  all  to  ruin  if  you 
do.'  And  we  both  sat  and  cried  for  ever  so  long. 
Yv'hile  we  were  crying,  a  neighbor  came  in  ;  and  she 
said,  '  Why  don't  you  go  round  to  the  women's  tem- 
perance meeting  and  ask  them  to  pray  for  him?'  I 
didn't  see  what  good  that  was  going  to  do;  but  she 
talked  so  much  about  it  that  I  said  to  myself,  'It 
can't  do  any  harm,  that's  sure.'  So  I  put  on  my 
things  and  came  round  here,  and  Tom's  mother  came 
with  me.  I  wrote  on  a  piece  of  paper,  'Prayers 
wanted  for  a  young  husband  and  father  who  is  heini; 
ruined  by  drink,'  and  sent  it  up.  And  when,  sin- 


282  STRONG  DRINK; 

gling  this  out  from  all  the  rest,  Mrs.  W said, 

in  her  prayer,  'This  young  husband  and  father, 
Lord,  who  is  being  ruined  by  drink,  oh,  hear  the 
pitiful  cry  of  his  wife,  and  the  cry  that  we  are  all 
sending  up  to  Thee  now.  Let  Thy  Spirit  prevail 
with  him.  Quicken  in  him  the  desire  for  a  better 
life ;  turn  him  from  the  evil  of  his  ways,' — it  seemed 
as  if  the  Lord  had  come  down  into  this  room,  and 
as  if  I  had  got  right  hold  of  Him.  After  the  meet- 
ing was  over  we  went  home,  and  my  husband's, 
mother  waited  until  he  came  in  to  supper.  He  didn't 
have  much  to  say ;  looked  kind  of  troubled  about 
something,  I  thought.  He  usually  went  out  directly 
after  supper ;  but  this  time  he  sat  for,  maybe,  half  an 
hour,  reading  a  newspaper.  Then  he  took  up  his 
hat  and  went  away.  'Don't  stay  out  late,  Tom, 
please,'  said  I,  as  pleasantly  as  I  could  speak.  But 
he  didn't  answer  me  a  word.  His  mother  had  gone 
home  by  this  time,  and  I  was  alone  with  my  two 
little  children,  and  they  were  both  asleep.  I  had  a 
strange  feeling,  as  if  so'mething  was  going  to  happen. 
It  might  be  bad  or  it  might  be  good — I  couldn't  tell. 
My  heart  was  trembling  and  starting.  I  couldn't 
sew ;  I  couldn't  do  anything,  but  kept  going  about, 
up  and  down-stairs,  so  restless  and  troubled  that  I 
didn't  know  what  to  do  with  myself.  At  last  I  got 
down  on  my  knees  and  began  to  pray  for  my  hus- 
band. And  then  it  seemed  as  if  the  blessed  Lord 
and  Saviour  had  come  into  my  little  room ;  and  I 
talked  to  Him  as  a  friend,  and  pleaded  for  my  hus- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  283 

band,  and  bogged  Him  to  save  him  from  the  dread- 
ful appetite  that  was  ruining  him  soul  and  body.  I 
felt  better  after  that.  But  I  couldn't  settle  down  to 
doing  anything.  Then  I  got  the  Bible  and  read 
two  or  three  chapters.  Tired  at  last,  I  laid  my  face 
down  upon  the  open  book  and  fell  asleep.  I  had  a 
sweet  dream,  but  a  sweeter  waking  up,  for  my  hus- 
band's arms  were  around  me,  and  I  heard  his  voice 
wiving,  '.  Mary,  dear !'  in  the  old,  loving  way.  *  Oh, 
what  is  it,  Tom?'  I  cried  out,  as  I  started  up.  And 
thm  he  kissed  me,  and  said,  'It's  going  to  be  all 
right  again,  Mary.  I've  been  down  to  the  Murphy 
meeting,  and  signed  the  pledge,  and,  God  helping 
me,  I'm  going  to  keep  it.'  And  he  has  kept  it  so 
far ;  and  what's  better,  he's  given  his  heart  to  Christ, 
and  we've  both  joined  the  church.  Oh,  I'm  so 
happy  I" 

My  eyes  were  full  of  tears  when  this  happy  young 
wife  sat  down. 

Then  the  lady  to  whom  she  had  referred,  made  a 
few  impressive  comments  on  the  incident  just  related, 
adding  two  or  three  others  as  strikingly  illustrative 
of  the  value  of  prayer.  One  of  these  was  quite  re- 
markuhle,and  I  was  not  able  to  trace, except  remotely, 
the  relation  between  cause  and  effect.  She  said: 
"At  one  of  the  Central  Coffee-Room  Thursday 
evening  meetings  at  which  I  was  present,  a  gentle- 
man arose  and  said,  '  I  want  to  ask  your  prayers  for 
the  drunken  son  of  a  poor  old  mother.  I  don't 
know  who  he  is — not  even  his  name,  nor  wheic  he 


284  STRONG  DRINK; 

lives.  To-night,  as  I  was  coming  here,  I  saw  an  old 
woman  standing  on  a  corner,  and  she  seemed  to  be 
in  trouble.  I  stopped  and  asked  what  was  the  mat- 
ter, and  she  said,  "Oh,  dear  sir,  I'm  in  great  distress. 
I'm  old  and  poor,  and  have  nothing  to  depend  on 
but  one  son,  and  he's  taken  to  bad  habits,  and  spends 
nearly  everything  he  earns  in  drink ;  and  if  I  say  a 
word  to  him,  he  goes  on  dreadfully.  He  hasn't 
been  home  all  day ;  and  there's  nothing  in  the  house 
to  eat,  and  I've  been  going  all  about  trying  to  find 
him."  And  the  poor  old  mother  wrung  her  hands 
and  moaned  so  piteously  that  it  made  my  heart  ache. 
I  could  do  nothing  for  her  but  give  her  a  little 
money  and  tell  her  to  go  home  and  pray  for  her  son. 
And  now  I  ask  the  prayers  of  all  here  to-night  for 
the  son  of  this  aged  mother.'  The  case  was  very 
blind.  We  did  not  know  even  the  man's  name,  nor 
the  name  of  his  mother ;  how  then  were  we  to  pre- 
sent him  to  God?  But  it  was  not  for  us  to  put 
limits  to  the  Divine  power  of  saving.  $0  we  laid 
this  unknown  mother's  sorrow,  and  this  unknown 
man's  sin  and  desolation  before  the  Lord  and  left 
the  case  with  Him.  Well,  on  the  next  Thursday 
evening  the  gentleman  arose  again,  and  said,  'I  have 
good  news  from  the  man  whom  I  asked  you  to  pray 
for  at  our  last  meeting.  He  has  been  saved.'  What 
a  thrill  of  joy  went  through  me !  '  On  the  very 
evening  afterwards  I  met  his  old  mother  again.  It 
seemed  almost  as  if  she  had  dropped  down  in  the 
street  before  me ;  and  she  told  me  this  glad  story : 


T1IE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  285 

"  A  fter  I  saw  you,"  she  said,  "  I  went  home  and 
waited  for  my  son,  crying  and  praying,  and  in  great 
distress  of  mind.  It  was  about  half-past  ten  o'clock 
when  I  heard  him  come  in — he  never  got  home 
much  before  twelve — and  it  gave  me  a  start  Up- 
stairs he  came;  not  stumbling  nor  unsteady,  but 
every  step  distinct  and  firm.  When  he  opened  the 
door,  I  saw  something  strange  in  his  face.  I  didn't 
know  what  it  meant.  Such  a  light  in  his  eyes,  and 
such  a  soft,  gentle  look  about  his  mouth.  *O 
John !'  I  cried  out,  almost  catching  my  breath.  Then 
he  said,  *  Mother,  I've  been  to  one  of  them  great 
mi -dings,  and  I've  signed  the  pledge,  and  if  God 
will  only  give  me  the  strength  to  keep  it,  I'll  live 
sind  die  a  sober  man.'  -Oh,  dear,  how  my  poor  old 
heart  did  leap  for  joy.  Then  I  got  him  round  the 
neck,  and  I  said,  'Let  us  kneel  right  down  here, 
John,  and  pray  that  God  will  give  you  all  the 
strength  you  want.'  And  down  we  knelt ;  and  such 
a  prayer-meeting  as  we  had  together;  it  lasted  till 
almost  morning."1 

"  With  such  instances  of  the  power  of  prayer  for 
our  encouragement,"  continued  the  speaker,  "and  I 
could  give  many  more  that  have  come  under  my 
own  observation  quite  as  remarkable,  let  us  not 
hesitate  in  our  petitions,  but  come  confidently  to 
God.  Among  the  written  requests  for  prayer  which 
I  now  hold  in  my  hand,  is  one  that  has  moved  me 
deeply.  Three  young  wives  ask  your  prayers  for 
their  intemperate  husbands.  Three  young  wives." 


286  STRONG  DRINK: 

Her  voice  falling  on  the  words  in  low,  pitying 
cadences.  "Think  of  it!  Three  young  wives; 
happy  brides  a  little  while  ago,  and  with  the  sweet 
grace  and  charm  of  girlhood  still  about  them! 
What  an  outlook  upon  life  for  these  dear  young 
souls.  They  have  met  together,  and  each  has  told 
to  the  others  her  sorrow  and  her  fear.  They  have 
seen  their  young  husbands  drifting,  and  drifting, 
and  drifting  away,  every  effort  to  hold  them  back 
in  vain.  They  will  be  lost  if  some  influence,  greater 
than  it  is  their  power  to  exercise,  is  not  brought 
to  bear  upon  them.  And  now  they  ask  our  prayers. 
Let  us  offer  them  in  loving  faith ;  and  not  for  these 
only,  but  for  all  the  special  cases  which  have  been 
brought  to  us  this  day." 

I  had  heard  at  one  of  the  revival  meetings,  a 
year  or  two  before,  a  long  list  of  requests  for  prayer 
read  off  very  much  in  the  routine  way  of  an  entry 
clerk  reading  off  the  items  of  an  invoice ;  and  then 
the  prayers  were  offered  up  in  a  kind  of  wholesale 
fashion  that  struck  me  as  almost  irreverent  and 
quite  useless. 

But  the  prayer  that  I  now  heard  affected  me  very 
differently.  There  was  in  it  nothing  of  routine  or 

dead  formality.  Mrs.  W ,  to  whom  the  duty 

of  offering  these  requests  to  God  had  been  assigned, 
felt,  it  was  plain,  the  troubled  heart-beat  of  those 
whom  she  represented  in  her  petitions.  Not  a  sin- 
gle request,  written  or  verbal,  was  forgotten.  Each, 
in  turn,  was  offered  before  the  Lord,  and  with  such 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  287 

•ig  and  earnestness  and  individuality  of  need 
and  condition,  that  I  was  not  only  surprised  at  the 
singular  clearness  with  which  she  had  apprehended 
i-arh  case,  but  deeply  moved  by  the  sphere  of  her 
trusting  and  reverent  piety. 

At  the  close  of  this  prayer  and  the  singing  that 
followed,  the  pledge  was  offered  to  those  who  had 
not  signed,  and  all  who  felt  the  need  of  spiritual 
counsel  and  comfort  were  invited  to  go  into  the 
inquiry-room. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  "[  TOW  long  has  this  been  going  on  ?"  I  asked 
J — L  of  Mr.  Granger  as  we  walked  away. 

"  For  months,"  he  replied. 

"Are  the  meetings  held  daily  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  always  crowded  like  this  ?" 

"Always." 

"And  as  full  of  interest?" 

"  The  interest  never  flags.  You  see  how  entirely 
in  earnest  these  women  are,  and  how  completely 
they  have  thrown  themselves  into  this  work,  which 
has  still  another  side." 

"Another  side?" 

"  Yes.  Their  faith  in  prayer  is  unbounded.  Some 
of  them  take  the  Bible  promises  so  literally  that  they 
verily  believe  a  mountain  could  be  removed  and  cast 
into  the  sea  if  prayer  and  faith  were  strong  enough. 
*  Spiritual  forces  are  higher  and  more  subtle  than 
natural  forces,  and  spiritual  laws  above  and  superior 
to  natural  laws/  I  once  heard  one  of  them  say,  while 
speaking  of  the  power  of  prayer,  '  and  can  suspend 
or  set  them  aside  altogether,  as  in  miracles ;  and  it 
is  because  our  faith  is  so  weak,  and  we  ask  so  often 
amiss,  asking  selfishly,  that  marvels  are  not  wrought 
288 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  C"  OgQ 

by  prayer  which  would  astonish  the  world.'  She 
he-Id  that  if  the  Christian  people  of  this  city  would 
unite  in  one  strong  and  persistent  prayer  to  God, 
IK-  would  set  agencies  in  motion  that  would  close 
every  liquor-saloon  in  our  midst  and  cause  wicked- 
ness to  cease.  But  there  are  those  among  them 
who  keep  nearer  to  the  earth,  and  who  have  faith  in 
other  saving  means  beside  that  of  prayer.  Who 
believe  in  feeding  the  hungry,  and  clothing  the 
naked,  and  building  up  and  sustaining  the  natural 
decree  of  life,  so  that  the  spiritual  degree  which  has 
just  been  vivified  with  grace  from  above  may  have 
an  orderly  foundation  upon  which  to  rest.  The 
other  side  of  this  work  to  which  I  have  referred, 
ha-  relation  to  the  lower  degree  of  life  which  rests 
on  the  earth,  and  which  must  be  in  some  degree  of 
health  and  order  before  it  is  possible  for  spiritual  life 
t->  have  sustenance  and  growth." 

"  Women  have  a  very  practical  side,  and  are  quick 
in  their  perception  of  wants  and  means,"  I  remarked. 

"  Yes ;  and  what  is  more,  are  quick  to  act.  When 
(hey  see  that  a  thing  ought  to  be  done,  they  go  about 
doing  it;  and  often  while  we  are  thinking  and  de- 
bating, their  will  has  found  the  way.  You  remem- 
!iow  it  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Soldiers 
from  the  North  who  were  landed  from  the  ferry- 
boats at  the  foot  of  Washington  Avenue  to  await 
farther  transportation,  were  found  hungry  and 
hausted,  sitting  on  curb-stones  and  door-steps,  or 
lying  a-!eep  on  the  pavement,  no  provision  having 
19 


290  STRONG  DRINK; 

been  made  for  feeding  them  on  the  way.  What 
happened  ?  While  the  men  stood  looking  on,  and 
blaming  the  Government  for  neglect  of  provision  at 
this  point,  the  women  had  their  coffee-pots  on  the 
fire,  and  out  from  the  houses  all  along  the  line  of 
the  street  came  quickly  smoking  cups  and  pitchers, 
and  plates  of  bread  and  meat,  and  baskets  of  re- 
freshing fruit.  You  remember  how  this  thing  stirred 
your  heart  at  the  time,  and  the  hearts  of  all  to  whom 
it  was  told  the  land  over ;  and  how,  from  this  good 
beginning,  the  refreshment-saloons  were  started, 
giving  such  abundance  of  good  cheer  to  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  soldiers  who  afterwards  went 
through  our  city — the  new  recruits  pressing  forward 
to  the  battle-fields,  and  the  sick,  and  war- wasted,  and 
wounded  returning  home  to  recover  their  strength  or 
die." 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  remember  well.  And  the  thought  of  it 
after  so  many  years  gives  my  heart  a  quicker  motion." 

"  Now,  as  then,  the  action  of  the  women  is  direct 
and  practical.  They  do  not  stand  looking  on  sor- 
rowfully, and  with  folded  hands,  waiting  for  organ- 
ized agencies.  There  are  no  strong  appeals  to  the 
public  for  help,  and  pauses  for  response.  But  in- 
stead, an  immediate  taking  hold  of  and  use  of  what- 
ever means  lie  close  at  hand.  Food  and  clothing 
are  gathered  and  distributed,  and  cases  of  destitution 
and  homelessness  met  and  ministered  to.  If  not  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  need,  yet  always  to  the  extent 
of  ability." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  201 

"  That  is  well,"  said  I.  "  Prayers  are  good,  but 
they  never  take  the  place  of  potatoes.  A  hungry 
man  is  a  poor  subject  for  religion ;  and  a  dirty  and 
ragged  one  scarcely  any  better." 

"  Yes,  we  all  understand  this.  And  it  is  just  here 
that  the  great  work  of  reform  now  going  on  in  our 
city  finds  one  of  its  chief  impediments,"  Mr.  Gran- 
ger answered.  "  What  these  devoted  Christian 
women  are  doing  is  as  the  first  spontaneous  efforts 
which  were  made  by  loyal  women  to  feed  the  hungry 
soldiers  who  were  passing  through  our  city.  There 
was  a  great  blessing  in  it,  but  the  blessing  was  lim- 
ibr  lack  of  the  larger  supplies  and  more  perfect 
organization  which  came  afterwards.  So  now,  much 
is  being  done  with  imperfect  means;  but,  as  the 
work  goes  on,  and  its  results  become  more  widely 
known,  as  interest  deepens  and  sympathy  grows 
broader,  I  look  for  that  liberal  and  substantial  co- 
oporation  which  is  so  essential  to  its  success." 

"  The  ardor  that  now  attends  this  work,"  said  I, 
"  will  it  not  die  out?  There  is  a  waste  of  energy  in 
enthusiasm.  Of  all  excitements,  none  spend  them- 
-*  more  quickly  than  religious  excitements,  be- 
cause they  are  so  intense.  The  more  permanent 
forces  are  quiet  and  almost  unobtrusive.  In  a  few 
wct-ks  the  heat  of  summer  will  be  upon  us,  and  Mr. 
Murphy  will  go  away.  There  will  be  no  more 
crowded  halls,  no  more  Sunday  morning  break;' 
nor  stirring  appeals  and  moving  invitations.  What, 
then,  is  to  become  of  these  weak,  and  tempted,  and 


202  STRONG  DRINK; 

almost  friendless  ones  who  have  just  been  lifted  from 
the  slough  ?  It  troubles  me  to  think  of  it.  Is  the 
entire  cessation  of  these  religious  temperance  meet- 
ings for  two  or  three  months  a  well-considered 
thing  ?  To  retire  from  the  field  and  leave  the  enemy 
in  full  possession  after  such  a  series  of  victories  as 
you  have  had,  can  hardly  be  considered  good  gene- 
ralship." 

"There  is  going  to  be  no  abandonment  of  the 
field,"  Granger  replied. 

"  I  understood  differently." 

"  Do  you  suppose,  for  a  single  moment,  that  the 
women  who  are  in  this  battle  are  going -to  ground 
their  arms,  or  leave  the  field  for  any  cause  ?  '  How 
often  will  you  hold  your  meetings?'  I  asked  of 

Mrs.  W ;  and  she  answered  quietly,  "  Three 

hundred  and  sixty-five  days  in  the  year/  'Xo 
intermission  this  summer  ?'  '  None,'  she  replied. 
'How  could  we  leave  these  hundreds  of  pre- 
cious souls,  just  rescued  from  the  slavery  of 
drunkenness,  some  of  them  without  homes,  or 
friends,  or  work,  in  the  very  midst  of  temptation  ? 
If  any  were  lost  through  our  neglect,  or  ease-seek- 
ing, would  not  the  stain  of  their  blood  be  upon  our 
garments?  Verily  do  we  believe  that  God  has 
called  us  to  this  work  of  saving  men  who,  because 
of  their  utter  degradation  through  intemperance, 
have  been  rejected  by  society  and  abandoned  by  the 
churches.  Helpless,  hopeless,  lost  but  for  the 
agencies  now  raised  up  in  the  Divine  Providence 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  993 

for  their  rescue,  shall  we,  to  whom  has  been  com- 
mittal the  great  responsibility  of  using  and  direct- 
ing these  agencies,  fold  our  hands  and  K rk  for  rest 
and  recreation,  while  so  many  feet  are  only  on  the 
unsteady  margin  of  the  pit  out  of  which  they  have 
been  dragged,  and  so  many  hands  clinging  to  our 
garments,  lest,  if  their  hold  be  loosed,  they  full 
again  ?  No,  no.  There  is  too  much  at  stake.' " 

"  Brave,  true  women  J"  I  responded,  with  ardor. 
"  In  all  works  of  Christian  charity  they  are  ever  in 
the  advance.  But  will  nothing  be  done  by  the  men 
whose  efforts  have  been  crowned  by  such  wonderful 
results  as  we  have  seen  ?  Will  they  wholly  aban- 
don the  work  until  their  summer  vacation  is  over  ? 
The  enemy  will  surely  be  diligent  in  his  work  of 
sowing  tares  in  their  field  while  they  rest." 

"  Only  this  great  public  demonstration  will  cease," 
Mr.  Granger  replied.  "But  you  may  be  sure  of 
one  thing,  the  enemy  is  not  going  to  have  it  all  his 
own  way.  Faithful  guards,  and  sentinels,  and  re- 
serve forces  will  be  left,  and  he  will  be  held  to  the 
lines  back  upon  which  he  has  been  driven.  When 
the  fall  campaign  opens,  we  shall  have  a  more 
thorough  organization,  and  larger  means.  So  far, 
it  has  only  been  as  a  skirmish  along  the  lines  com- 
pared to  the  battles  that  must  be  fought.  We  do 
not  make  light  of  our  enemy.  He  is  not  to  be 
vanquished  by  a  single  fierce  onslaught,  nor  by  a 
single  desperate  battle.  All  hell  is  on  his  side; 
and  among  men  he  draws  his  myriads  of  recruits 


294  STRONG  DRINK; 

from  the  young  and  the  old  who  have  inordinate 
desires  and  evil  passions,  and  selfish  ends  to  serve 
and  gratify.  Prejudice,  and  interest,  and  sensual 
desire  are  on  his  side.  He  is  intrenched  behind 
law,  usage,  fallacy  and  appetite.  His  friends  and 
emissaries  are  to  be  found  everywhere.  In  the 
halls  of  legislation,  in  courts  of  justice,  in  executive 
and  municipal  offices,  and,  sad  to  say,  often  even  in 
the  pulpit;  though,  thanks  to  the  growth  of  a 
higher  Christianity,  his  representatives  are  fast 
disappearing  from  the  sacred  desk." 

"  No  mean  enemy  with  which  to  engage  in  bat- 
tle," said  I. .  "As  to  the  ultimate  victory,  that  is 
very  far  off.  It  will  hardly  be  seen  in  your  day  or 
mine.  The  battle  with  hell  has  been  raging  for 
thousands  of  years,  and,  for  all  we  can  see,  will  con- 
tinue for  thousands  of  years  longer ;  and  if  all  hell 
is  on  the  side  of  the  liquor  traffic  and  intemperance, 
all  hell  must  be  conquered  before  they  will  cease. 
From  this  survey  of  the  field  the  outlook  is  not,  I 
confess,  a  very  hopeful  one." 

"It  is  as  full  of  hope  as  Christianity,"  returned 
Mr.  Granger.  "As  that  gains  in  strength  and  vital 
power,  temperance  will  have  an  equal  gain,  for  the 
very  life  of  Christianity  is  to  reject  evil  as  sin 
against  God.  An  intemperate  man  cannot  be  a 
Christian  man  in  any  true  sense,  because  he  is 
selfishly  indulging  a  depraved  appetite  which  not 
only  hurts  his  body,  but  weakens  and  degrades 
his  mind,  and  so  unfits  him  for  that  service 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE.  295 

of  GoJ   and   his  neighbor   which   constitutes  re- 
ligion." 

"  Taking  this  view,  intemperance  becomes  a  sin." 

"  Is  it  the  service  of  God  or  the  service  of  self?" 
( I  ranger  asked.  "The  holding  of  appetite  subject 
to  reason  and  the  laws  of  health,  or  the  giving  of 
lower  and  destructive  things  power  over  the  higher 
and  conservative?  Is  intemperance  a  good  or  an 
evil  ?  If  evil,  then  it  is  sin." 

"  What  of  moderate  drinking — the  temperate  use, 
as  it  is  called,  of  wine  and  other  stimulants  ?  Is 
there  sin  in  this?" 

"  Sin  is  the  voluntary  doing  of  anything  that  we 
know  to  be  hurtful  to  the  neighbor,  or  contrary  to 
the  law  of  God,"  Granger  replied. 

"  Then  I  may  drink  wine  or  beer  moderately,  and 
In-  innocent  There  is  no  law  of  God  which  says, 
*  Thou  shalt  not  drink  wine  or  beer.'  And  it  can- 
not hurt  my  neighbor.  If  any  one  is  hurt,  it  is 
myself  alone." 

"Can  you  hurt  yourself  without  hurting  your 
_rhbor  ?" 

'  Not  if  my  neighbor  have  any  claim  which  this 
hurting  of  myself  prevents  me  from  meeting." 

"Has  the  body  no  claim  on  the  hand  or  foot? 
Can  either  of  them  say,  I  may  hurt  myself  if  I 
choose — that  is  my  own  affair  ?  Depend  upon  it, 
Mr.  Lyon,  there  is  no  man  in  human  society,  no 
matter  how  weak,  or  obscure,  or  lowly  he  may  he, 
who  has  not  a  service  to  perform,  in  default  of 


296  STRONG  VPJXK; 

which  some  other  human  being — it  may  be  many 
human  beings — must  suffer.  Society  is  an  organic 
form,  in  which  we  all  have  our  places  and  func- 
tions ;  and  society  is  sick,  and  lame,  and  covered 
with  cancerous  sores,  only  because  it  has  so  many 
idle,  useless,  self-hurting  and  vicious  members  and 
organs  in  its  great  social  body.  Under  this  view, 
no  one  who  selfishly  indulges  in  any  practice  that 
diminishes  his  power  to  serve  those  who  have  claims 
upon  him,  can  be  free  from  sin." 

"  I  see  your  broader  view  and  your  broader  confi- 
dence," I  returned.  "  Whatever  is  gained  for  Chris- 
tianity is  gained  for  temperance." 

"Any  true  gain  to  Christianity  is  a  gain  to  tem- 
perance ;  for  to  be  a  Christian  man  means  to  be  a 
temperate  man,"  he  said.  "  There  is  no  such  a 
thing  as  a  tippling  Christian,  though  there  may  be 
a  tippling  professor ;  for  in  so  far  as  a  man  tipples, 
moderately  or  immoderately,  he  is  not  a  Christian— 
not  a  free  spiritual  man,  but  in  bondage  to  the 
flesh." 

"There  are  many  who  would  consider  such  a 
declaration  as  uncharitable  and  unwarranted,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"Do  you?"  he  asked. 

"  My  ideal  of  a  Christian  man  is  very  high,"  I 
returned. 

"  You  would  not  have  him  a  slave  to  any  corpo- 
real lust  or  appetite  ?" 

"He  could  not  be;  for  in  so  far  as  one  is  not 


THE  CURSE  AM)  THE  CURE.        297 

lifted  above  these,  lie  is  not  a  Christian.  Religion 
cm  scarcely  be  worth  anything  if  it  does  not  save-  a 
man  from  the  dominion  of  his  animal  nature.  It 
must  reform  and  regenerate  the  external  as  well  as 
the  internal.  His  very  feet,  the  lowest  and  most 
ultimate  things  of  his  life,  must  be  washed  and  made 
clean." 

"  I  could  not  express  my  own  views  more  exact- 
ly," Granger  replied.  As  we  were  parting,  he  said: 
"A  few  friends  are  to  be  at  my  house  this  evening. 
I  wish  you  would  come  round." 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Dr.  Gilbert,  from  New  York,  will  be  there." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  him." 

"And  Judge  Arbuckle  and  his  wife,  from  Colum- 
bus. The  judge  and  I  were  in  the  same  class  at 
college,  and  warmly  attached  friends.  It  is  nearly 
twenty  years  since  our  last  meeting.  He  is  a  man 
of  line  qualities,  both  as  to  head  and  heart,  with  de- 
rided  opinions  and  considerable  force  of  character. 
You  will  enjoy  an  evening  in  his  company,  I  am 
smv ;  and  none  the  less,  I  think,  from  the  fact  that 
there  is  likely  to  be  an  earnest  encounter  between 
him  and  Dr.  Gilbert." 

"  I  ndeed  !     On  what  subject  ?" 

"  The  judge,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  not  a  temper- 
ance man.  He  has  always  taken  stimulants,  and 
believes  their  moderate  employment  to  be  useful." 

"  1  lar  he  ever  given  the  subject  a  careful  investi- 
gation?" 


298  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  I  presume  not.  Law  and  politics  have  claimed 
his  closer  attention." 

"A  discussion  between  him  and  Dr.  Gilbert,  if  it 
should  happen  to  arise,  is  likely  to  be  a  warm  one." 

"  It  will  be  earnest,  but  fair  and  courteous,  for 
both  are  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Granger.  "  I  am 
glad  of  the  opportunity  to  bring  these  men  together, 
for  after  their  meeting,  my  old  friend  Arbuckle  will, 
I  think,  be  in  possession  of  facts  that  must  set  him 
thinking  in  a  new  direction.  As  for  himself,  I  do 
not  greatly  fear  the  serious  encroachments  of  appe- 
tite ;  for  he  is  an  exceptionally  well-balanced  man, 
with  a  cool,  clear  head,  and  finely-strung  nerves; 
and  is  known  for  his  moderation  and  conservative 
force  of  character.  But  his  example  and  influence 
cannot  fail  to  be  exceedingly  hurtful,  especially  with 
young  men." 

I  promised  to  make  one  of  his  guests  that  even- 
ing, and  we  parted. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

MR.  GRANGER'S  law  business,  which  had 
grown  rapidly,  was  already  giving  him  a 
handsome  income,  and  his  family  was  again  living 
in  a  style  of  comparative  elegance.  His  daughter 
Amy  had  developed  into  a  rarely  attractive  maiden, 
and  was  greatly  beloved  and  admired  in  the  circles 
where  she  moved.  Her  quiet  grace  and  dignity 
were  in  marked  contrast  with  the  free  and  jaunty 
manners  seen  in  too  many  of  our  young  girls,  and 
lifted  her  above  them  in  the  estimation  of  all  who 
he-Id  the  sex  in  any  high  reganj,  There  were  those 
who  sought  to  win  her  favor,  but  as  most  of  the 
young  men  whom  she  happened  to  meet  in  society, 
took  part  in  its  drinking  customs,  she  kept  herself 
on  guard  against  their  advances  and  held  them  at  a 
distance.  The  shadows  which  intemperance 
had  thrown  over  her  early  life  rested  too  deeply  on 
her  spirits  to  be  wholly  removed ;  and  the  pain  and 
humiliation  they  had  occasioned  were  things  that 
could  never  be  forgotten.  To  see  a  glass  of  wine  at 
the  lips  of  a  young  man  was  to  lift  between  himself 
and  her  an  impassable  barrier.  She  might  esteem 
him  as  a  friend;  but  she  locked  the  door  of  her 
heart  against  him.  If,  as  happened  more  than  once, 

299 


300  STRONG  DRINK; 

a  warmer  sentiment  than  friendship  had  commenced 
forming,  she  smothered  it  out  with  a  quick  and  reso- 
lute hand  on  discovering  the  fatal  impediment. 

But  love  steals  in  by  unguarded  ways,  and  when 
once  within  the  citadel  of  the  heart,  holds  to  his 
advantage  and  makes  vigorous  resistance  should  an 
attempt  be  made  to  cast  him  out.  It  so  happened 
that  a  young  man  named  Pickering,  found  favor 
with  Amy,  and  that  almost  before  she  was  aware  of 
her  danger,  the  citadel  of  her  heart  had  been  taken. 
Handsome  in  person,  pure  in  life,  and  true  and 
manly  in  his  character,  Henry  Pickering  was  en- 
tirely worthy  of  the  love  which  she  was  not  able  to 
keep  from  revealing  itself  in  her  eyes. 

A  few  months  after  their  more  intimate  acquaint- 
ance, and  when  the  young  man's  attitude  towards 
Amy  left  but  little  doubt  as  to  his  feelings  and  in- 
tentions, they  met  at  an  evening  entertainment,  where 
liberal  refreshments  were  served.  A  sudden  chill 
and  suspense  fell  upon  the  maiden's  heart,  as,  with 
her  hand  on  Pickering's  arm,  she  began  moving 
towards  the  supper-room;  for  the  clink  of  gl; 
and  popping  of  corks  could  already  be  heard.  She 
had  never  until  now  met  this  young  man  at  an 
evening  party ;  nor  had  anything  occurred  in  their 
intercourse  so  far  that  gave  her  any  intimation  of 
his  attitude  towards  the  too  prevalent  drinking 
usages  of  society.  In  all  her  intercourse  with  him, 
she  had  not  seen  the  smallest  indication  of  any  in- 
dulgence in  wine  or  intoxicating  drinks,  and  there 


Thank  you;  no  wlnr  fur  nn-.11  replied  Amy.— Papt SOI. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  3Q1 

had  come  to  be  with  her  a  tacit  and  fond  belief  that 
he  was  one  of  those  who  kept  himself  entirely  free 
from  their  use. 

But  now  the  hour  of  trial  and  proof  had  come, 
and  as  they  entered  the  supper-room,  Amy's  breath- 
ing became  constricted,  and  her  heart  beat  with 
heavy,  almost  suffocating  throbs.  She  took  her 
place  a  little  back  from  the  table,  which  was  liber- 
ally supplied  with  glasses  and  bottles  of  wine,  and 
waited  for  her  attendant  to  bring  her  some  of  the 
refreshments  that  were  being  served.  This  was 
speedily  done.  As  Pickering  handed  her  the  plate 
which  he  had  filled,  he  said :  "  Will  you  have  a 
glass  of  champagne,  or  some  sherry  ?" 

"Thank  you;  no  wine  for  me,"  replied  Amy, 
with  something  in  her  voice  that  caused  the  young 
man  to  look  at  her  a  little  curiously* 

"  You  would  not  have  me  drink  alone?"  he  said. 
.     "  I  would  not  have  you  drink  at  all,"  she  an- 
swered, a  low  thrill  of  feeling  in   her   other \vi.-e 
v  voice. 

JILT'S  eyes  rested  on  hers  for  a  moment  or 
two,  after  which  he  turned  from  her  slowly,  goiniz; 
to  the  table  and  filling  another  plate  with  salad  and 
oysters.  Then  lie  came  back  to  his  place  by  her 
side ;  but,  as  they  stood  eating,  they  were  turned  a 
little  away  from  each  other.  The  young  man,  w  ho 
had  been  a  resident  of  the  city  for  only  a  year  or 
two,  knew  nothing  at  this  time  of  Mr.  Granger's 
history. 


302  STEONO  DRINK; 

It  soon  became  evident  to  Pickering  that  liis 
companion  was  only  making  a  pretence  of  eating. 

"  Let  me  get  you  something  else,"  said  he.  "This 
isn't  to  your  taste.  What  shall  it  be  ?" 

But  she  replied,  as  she  handed  him  her  plate : 
"  Nothing  more,  I  thank  you." 

He  was  looking  full  into  her  face  now,  and  saw 
with  concern  that  the  brows  were  slightly  drawn, 
and  the  color  diminished. 

"Are  you  not  feeling  well  ?  The  room  is  very 
warm.  Let  me  bring  you  an  ice  ?" 

But  she  declined  anything  more,  and  promptly 
accepted  the  young  man's  invitation  to  return  to  the 
parlor,  where  they  took  a  seat  near  one  of  the  win- 
dows through  which  the  fresh,  cool  air  was  coming. 
The  whole  manner  of  the  girl,  as  well  as  the  ex- 
pression of  her  face,  had  changed ;  and  Pickering 
was  troubled  and  at  a  loss  to  know  the  meaning  of 
this  change  which  had  come  so  suddenly. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  ill,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  Amy  replied,  endeavoring  to  rally 
herself.  She  was  too  truthful  for  any  subterfuge. 

"  If  not  ill,  then  something  has  gone  wrong,  Miss 
Granger ;  and  I  am  concerned  to  know  what  it  is. 
Have  I  done  anything  to  disturb  or  offend  you  ?" 

Amy's  eyes,  which  had  been  on  his  face,  dropped 
to  the  floor,  and  she  made  no  answer.  The  young 
man's  thought  turned  back  hurriedly,  and  went  over 
the  brief  incidents  of  the  supper-room.  Was  it 
the  offer  of  a  glass  of  wine  ?  He  would  know,  and 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE.  3Q3 

at  once  put  the  question :  "  Do  you  object  to 
wine?" 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  thing,"  she  replied. 

"  If  carried  to  excess ;  but  not  when  used  in 
moderation." 

"  If  never  used  in  moderation,  excess  is  impossi- 
ble. No  man  is  safe  but  he  who  lets  it  alone." 

She  spoke  in  a  low,  steady  voice,  in  which  the 
young  man  noticed  the  same  thrill  of  fe'eling  that 
in  it  when  she  answered  him  in  the  supper- 
room — "  I  would  not  have  you  drink  at  all." 

"  \\'hy,  Miss  Granger!"  Pickering  exclaimed, 
trying  to  make  light  of  the  matter,  "  I  didn't  know 
before  that  you  were  a  little  temperance  enthusiast." 

"  It  is  not  with  me  a  matter  of  enthusiasm,"  she 
replied,  speaking  soberly,  "  but  of  deep  feeling  and 
d  principle." 

"  Oh !  I  was  not  aware  of  this  before.  If  I  had 
known  it,  I  should  not  have  committed  the  rudeness 
of  oiVrring  you  wine;  and  I  crave  pardon  for  my 
unfortunate  blunder.  You  are,  then,  an  advocate 
of  entire  abstinence." 

"  Where  the  use  of  a  useless  thing  is  attended 
with  such  awful  perils  as  attend  the  use  of  wine,  is 
not  he  the  wise  man  who  lets  it  alone  ?" 

"  I  will  not  say  no,  Miss  Granger.  But  your  pro- 
ion  is  very  sweeping.  I  might  take  issue  with 
you  on  the  word  'useless,'  but  am  in  no  way  inclined 
to  do  so  just  now.  Intemperance  is,  I  am  -well 
awaiv,  the  great  curse  of  our  land.'' 


304  STRONG  DRINK; 

"And  no  one  who  uses  intoxicating  drinks  of  any 
kind,  whether  moderately  or  not,  is  safe  from  this 
curse,"  said  Amy. 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  believe  that,  Miss  Granger. 
I  know  of  a  great  many  men  who  take  their  wine  or 
beer  every  day ;  but  I  do  not  think  them  in  any 
danger." 

"  Not  one  of  them  ?"  Her  voice  was  quiet,  but 
firm. 

"All  men  are  not  strong  alike,  nor  given  to 
moderation.  Some  are  inclined  to  excess  in  every- 
thing. There  is  always  danger  with  such." 

"And  danger  with  all  who  use  an  article  which 
invites  to  excess  the  very  moment  you  take  it.  It 
is  here,  Mr.  Pickering,  that  the  great  peril  lies. 
No  man  is  safe  who  admits  an  enemy  within  his 
fortress ;  and  alcohol  is  always  an  enemy." 

"  We  were  speaking  of  wine,  not  ardent  spirits," 
said  the  young  man. 

But  Miss  Granger  was  better  informed  than  he 
had  supposed. 

"  What  we  call  wine  is,  for  the  most  part,  only 
diluted,  drugged  and  flavored  alcohol.  Without 
the  character  and  quality  given  by  alcohol,  few 
would  care  to  drink  it.  It  takes  more  wine  than 
brandy  to  give  the  required  exhilaration;  that  is 
all." 

"  You  are  booked  on  this  subject,  Miss  Granger," 
said  Pickering,  his  brows  arching  slightly,  and  his 
voice  betraying  some  annoyance. 


TI1E  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cr/:/".  3Q5 

"  Whore  such  grave  results  attend  the  use  of  an 
article,  is  it  not  well  to  examine  carefully  the  ground 
of  its  claim  upon  our  confidence  ?" 

There  was  no  excitement  in  Amy's  manner ;  yet 
it  did  not  escape  the  young  man's  observation  that, 
hidden  beneath  her  quiet  exterior,  was  a  great  deal 
of  repressed  feeling. 

"  But  the  novel  thing  to  me  is,  the  fact  that  a 
young  lady  like  yourself  should  be  posted  on  the 
suhjcct  of  making  and  flavoring  wines,"  returned 
Pickering,  rising  into  an  air  of  banter.  "According 
to  your  view  of  the  case,  wine-drinking  is  only 
another  name  for  whisky-drinking." 

"  If,"  replied  Amy,  not  moved  from  her  serious 
attitude,  "  the  drink  we  call  wine  is  acceptable  as  a 
;nge  because  of  the  temporary  exhilaration  its 
alcohol  produces,  may  it  not  be  true  that  wine- 
drinking  is,  as  you  say,  another  name  for  whisky- 
drinking?" 

"  But  is  it,  as  you  allege,  Miss  Granger,  that  alco- 
hol gives  to  wine  its  chief  acceptable  quality  ?  I 
have  never  studied  the  subject ;  but  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  must  be  in  some  degree  of  error." 

"  I  have  been  in  the  way  of  hearing  a  great  deal 
about  these  matters,  and  from  those  who  have  con- 
ducted their  investigations  with  great  care,"  said 
Amy,  "and  I  am  just  as  certain,  as  I  am  of  any 
other  declared  result  of  chemical  test  and  analysis, 
that  wine  contains  so  large  a  proportion  of  alcohol 
as  to  make  its  use  exceedingly  dangerous." 
20 


306  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  What  proportion?"  asked  Pickering.  His  man- 
ner had  become  more  serious. 

"  I  have  heard  it  variously  stated,"  was  replied ; 
"the  percentage  running  from  seven  or  eight  to 
twenty-five  or  six." 

"  So  large  ?  I  wonder  how  much  alcohol  whisky 
or  brandy  contains  ?  You  are,  no  doubt,  informed 
as  to  that  also." 

"  From  forty  to  sixty  per  cent.,  I  am  told." 

"  Then,  if  I  drink  two  or  three  glasses  of  wine,  I 
get  about  as  much  alcohol  as  if  I  took  a  single  glass 
of  whisky  or  brandy  ?" 

"  The  danger  is  that  such  will  be  the  case." 

The  young  man  sat  with  a  thoughtful  air  for  a 
few  moments,  and  then  looking  up,  said,  with  a 
forced  levity  of  manner :  "  This  is  almost  comical, 
Miss  Granger." 

"  What  ?"  inquired  his  companion,  her  clear  eyes 
fixed  steadily  on  him. 

"  Free-and-easy  drinking  in  the  dining-room, 
and  a  temperance  lecture  in  the  parlor,"  he  replied, 
with  a  smile  breaking  into  his  handsome  counte- 
nance. 

Ere  Amy  could  reply,  the  sound  of  laughing 
voices  was  heard  at  the  parlor  doors,  and  half  a 
dozen  girls  and  young  men  came  in  from  the  hall 
and  dining-room  in  gayer  spirits  than  when  they 
went  to  the  refreshment-tables  half  an  hour  before. 
As  one  and  another  returned  to  the  parlor,  it  was 
noticeable  that  a  change  had  come  over  their  spirits. 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  3Q7 

Many  of  the  young  girls  laughed  and  talked  in 
louder  tones,  and  were  freer  in  their  manners  than 
before ;  sometimes  to  a  degree  that  was  unmaidenly; 
while  the  conduct  of  some  of  the  young  men  was 
offensive  to  good  taste  for  its  rudeness  or  folly. 

"  When  the  wine  is  in  the  wit  is  out,"  said  Pick- 
ering, as,  rising,  he  offered  his  arm  to  Amy,  and 
they  moved  down  the  parlor  and  mingled  with  the 
company,  adding,  as  they  gained  the  lower  end  of 
the  room,  "  We  might  call  this  the  application  to 
your  little  sermon." 

"And  the  oftener  the  wine  goes  in  will  the  wit  go 
out,"  returned  his  companion,  speaking  for  his  ear 
alone,  "  until  in  the  end  it  may  come  to  stay  out 
altogether." 

"  I  see  how  it  is,  Miss  Granger,"  said  the  young 
man.  "  Your  thought  has  a  habit  of  running  to  the 
last  result  of  things." 

"  Is  not  that  wisest?"  she  asked. 

"  Doubtless.  But  the  surprise  with  me  is,  that  a 
young  huly  should  have  such  radical  views  on  the 
sul-jcct  of  drinking.  You  are  in  no  danger.  Nor 
are  these  young  ladies,  for  all  the  wine  they  get 
at  i  »aiiies.  A  little  lightness  in  the  head  as 
you  see  now,  then  a  night's  sleep,  and  all  will  be 


OViT." 


"  15ut  what  of  the  young  men,  their  companions?" 

1  Amy. 

1'ick  i -ring  gave  a  slight  shrug. 
"Will  it  be  all  over,  as  you  say,  with  them? 


308  STEONO  DEINK; 

Will  the  appetite  be  no  stronger,  and  the  power  to 
resist  its  enticements  no  weaker  ?" 

"I  was  speaking  of  the  young  ladies,  and  the 
danger  to  them,"  said  Pickering. 

"Is  no  one  hurt  by  intemperance  but  the  men 
who  are  its  victims  ?"  inquired  the  girl.  "  If  I  am 
not  at  fault  in  my  observation,  there  are  to  be  found 
among  them  sons,  brothers,  husbands  and  fathers. 
Have  women  no  relation  to  these  men?  In  their 
wounding  is  there  no  hurt  to  the  sisters  and  daugh- 
ters, to  the  wives  and  the  mothers  ?" 

Pickering  felt  again  the  old  thrill  in  Amy's  calm" 
but  earnest  voice. 

"  If  a  young  or  middle-aged  man  should  go  home 
from  here  to-night  the  worse  for  the  wine  he  has 
taken,"  she  added,  after  a  slight  pause,  "  will  there 
be  no  shame  or  sorrow  in  any  woman's  heart 
because  of  it  ?" 

His  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a  faint  sigh  which 
followed  the  closing  words  that  fell  from  his  com- 
panion's lips. 

"  We  won't  talk  about  this  any  more,"  he  said. 
"  The  theme  is  too  sombre  for  so  gay  and  festive  an 
occasion."  He  spoke  with  some  decision  of  manner. 
"And  now,"  he  added,  in"a  lighter  voice,  "let  us  try 
a  little  nonsense,  by  way  of  a  restorative." 

Amy  had  already  said  far  more  than  it  was  in 
her  thought  or  purpose  to  say  at  the  outset,  and  was 
very  willing  to  let  the  subject  drop,  even  though  far 
from  being  satisfied  with  the  young  man's  utterances 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  399 

on  the  question,  which,  if  his  views  were  not  in 
accord  with  hers,  must  stand  as  an  impassable  barrier 
lit-t  ween  them.  One  thing  she  had  long  ago  settled 
in  her  mind,  and  that  was,  never  to  give  her  hand 
in  marriage  to  one  who  did  not  wholly  abstain  from 
the  use  of  alcohol  in  any  of  its  forms.  She  would 
take  no  risks  here.  The  danger,  in  her  view,  was 
too  appalling.  Her  answer  to  the  question :  "  How 
shall  I  be  saved  from  the  curse  of  strong  drink  ?" 
was  simple  and  direct.  She  would  neither  touch  it 
herself  in  any  of  its  covert  or  enticing  forms,  nor 
place  her  happiness  in  the  keeping  of  one  who  did. 

At  the  next  meeting  of  the  lovers,  for  so  we  must 
cull  them,  though  the  ypung  man  had  not  yet  made 
a  formal  declaration  of  his  sentiments,  each  felt  that 
a  barrier  had  risen  between  them.  In  the  mean- 
time, Pickering  had,  in  response  to  some  inquiries 
about  Miss  Granger's  family,  learned  something  of 
its  painful  history,  and  of  the  sufferings  and  humil- 
iation through  which  the  girl  had  passed.  This 
made  clear  the  ground  of  her  prejudice  against  wine- 
drinking.  I  say  "  prejudice,"  using  the  word  as 
Pickering  used  it  at  the  time.  One  thing  was  plain 
to  him ;  he  saw  that  there  would  be  little  hope  of 
compromise  with  Amy  in  regard  to  the  use  of 
intoxicating  liquor  in  any  of  its  forms.  If  he  were 
not  prepared  to  stand  on  her  ground,  so  far  as  this 
question  was  concerned,  he  could  hardly  hope  to 
stand  with  her  at  all. 

It  was  this  conviction  in  the  mind  of  Pickering, 


310  STRONG  DRINK; 

and  the  doubts  and  uncertainties  as  to  his  real  atti- 
tude in  regard  to  the  use  of  alcoholic  drinks  which 
troubled  Miss  Granger,  that  raised  the  barrier  too 
plainly  visible  to  each  on  their  next  meeting.  Both 
studiously  avoided  any  reference  to  the  subject, 
though  it  was  never  absent  a  moment  from  the 
thought  of  either.  For  the  first  time  since  their 
more  intimate  acquaintance,  Amy  made  an  effort  to 
hold  herself  away,  and  even  to  close  her  heart  against 
him.  Her  reserve  was  so  apparent  that  it  hurt, 
then  piqued,  and  then  partially  offended  the  young 
man. 

"If  love,"  he  said  to  himself,  "has  no  deeper 
foundation  than  this,  is  it  worth  the  name  ?  Is  the 
taking  or  refusing  of  a  glass  of  wine  to  be  the  test 
of  its  quality  ?  The  love  that  I  want  is  a  love  that 
can  take  me  for  what  I  am,  and  trust  me  all  in  all ; 
and  if  she  cannot  do  this,  it  might  as  well  be  at  an 
end  between  us.  To  subject  myself  to  any  humiliating 
pledges  and  restrictions,  is  simply  impossible.  I 
hold  my  manly  freedom  too  high  for  that." 

An  evening  of  embarrassed  intercourse,  followed 
by  a  cold  parting,  was  the  result.  They  did  not 
meet  again  for  over  a  week,  during  which  time  Amy 
had  striven  hard,  but  vainly,  to  keep  the  thought  of 
Pickering  out  of  her  mind.  With  him  the  effort  to 
banish  her  image  had  been  no  more  successful ;  and 
as  day  after  day  went  by  without  seeing  her,  tender- 
ness grew  in  his  heart,  and  the  conviction  became 
stronger  and  stronger  that  for  him  life  would  be 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  £11 

nothing  if  not  shared  with  her.  Taking  all  things 
into  consideration,  he  was  beginning  to  feel  more 
sympathy  with  the  girl  in  her  extreme  views.  "It 
is  but  natural,"  he  said,  "  for  a  burnt  child  to  dread 
the  fire.  All  that  she  has  seen  and  suffered  must 
be  set  down  in  her  favor." 

A  week  of  enforced  absence  was  all  that  Picker- 
ing could  endure ;  and  when  he  met  the  sweet  young 
girl  again  the  ardor  of  his  feelings  was  too  strong  for 
rq-ression.  Love  looked  out  from  his  eyes  more 
tenderly  than  ever,  and  betrayed  itself  more  nearly 
on  his  tongue.  As  for  Amy,  the  gladness  of  heart 
which  she  could  not  repress  overflowed  and  revealed 
itself  in  her  blushing  face.  Before  they  parted  on 
that  evening,  the  lover  had  spoken,  and  the  maiden, 
while  not  consenting  in  words,  had  left  him  in  no 
doubt  as  to  the  real  state  of  her  feelings. 

Not  the  remotest  reference  was  made  to  the  subject 
which  had,  only  a  little  while  before,  come  in  be- 
tween them  with  its  warning  shadow  and  its  sepa- 
rating wall.  Was  it  forgotten  by  either  of  them? 
Not  so.  But  their  hearts  held  it  away  from  any 
present  influence.  Love's  fruition  was  for  the  mo- 
ment too  full  for  the  intrusion  of  any  remote  ques- 
tions of  prudence.  For  love's  sake  all  light  impedi- 
ments mu.-t  disappear  when  the  time  came  for  their 
consideration. 

So  they  felt;  but  with  each  the  feeling  of  confidence 
had  its  ground  in  the  fancied  concession  of  the  other. 
If  Henry  Pickering  really  loved  her,  would  ho 


312  STEOXG  DRINK; 

hesitate  in  a  matter  which  she  held  to  be  of  such 
vital  moment  ?  So  the  maiden  thought,  and  took 
the  sweet  assurance  to  her  heart.  "  Amy  loves  me 
too  well  to  let  a  mere  prejudice  or  fancy  stand  be- 
tween us,"  said  the  young  man,  confidently,  to  him- 
self. 

But  they  erred  in  their  conclusions.  When  the 
young  man  pressed  a  closer  suit,  Amy  referred  him. 
to  her  father,  and  Pickering  found  that  there  would 
be  no  consent  with  either  unless  the  question  of  his 
attitude  to  the  drinking  customs  of  society  was 
clearly  settled. 

"Neither  myself  nor  my  daughter,"  said  Mr. 
Granger,  "  can  afford  to  run  so  great  a  risk  as  is 
here  involved.  For  myself,  I  would  rather  see  my 
child  with  the  angels."  He  betrayed  considerable 
emotion. 

"  I  must  infer  from  all  this,"  said  Pickering,  un- 
able entirely  to  conceal  his  disappointment  and. 
irritation,  "  that  you  think  me  in  special  danger." 

"  No ;  only  in  the  danger  that  comes  to  all  who 
w.alk  in  dangerous  ways,"  was  the  seriously-spoken 
reply.  "  If  we  know  that  robbers  lie  in  wait  along  a 
certain  road,  what  immunity  from  attack  have  we 
if  we  travel  that  road  ?" 

"  Shall  we  be  cowards,  then  ?  or,  like  brave  men, 
fight  our  way  through  ?" 

"  If  we  have  no  business  that  requires  us  to  go  by 
that  road,  we  put  our  courage  to  a  useless  test,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Granger.  "This  way  of  drinking,  my 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'liK.  313 

young  friend,  is  not  an  orderly  appointed  way  in 
It  leads  to  no  desirable  result;  has  no  goal  of 
fortune,  or  honor,  or  happiness.  They  who  walk  in 
it  are  not  exposed  to  the  assaults  of  robbers  alone, 
who  waste  and  plunder  their  substance,  but  fatal 
miasmas  lie  along  the  marshes  through  which  it 
often  winds.  It  has  pitfalls  in  many  of  its  smoothest 
places,  and  steep  precipices  to  which  the  road  clings 
treacherously.  If  a  man  propose  to  go  in  this  way, 
it  is  better  that  he  should  go  alone,  Mr.  Pickering. 
Love,  surely,  will  not  expose  its  object,  needlessly, 
to  dangers  like  these." 

"Frankly,  Mr.  Granger,  I  see  more  of  hyperbole 
in  all  this  than  a  statement  of  what  the  real  danger 
said  Pickering. 

The  irritation  that  betrayed  itself  in  his  manner 
a  little  while  before  was  all  gone;  and  though  his 
speech  was  plain,  it  was  not  in  the  least   disre- 
ful. 

"The  direful  effects  that  too  surely  attend  on 
excessive  drinking,  can  scarcely  be  exaggerated  by 
any  figures  of  speech  that  our  language  is  capable  of 
forming,"  answered  Mr.  Granger.     "I  am  many 
-  older  than  you,  and  have  seen  deeper  into 
vil  of  intemperance  than  it  is  possible  for  you 
to  have  seen ;  and  such  is  my  dread  of  its  subtle 
power  that  I  never  see  a  man  with  a  glass  of  in- 
toxicating liquor  in  his  hand  that  I  do  not  feel  like 
uttering  a  cry  of  warning.     Depend  upon  it,  Mr. 
T,  then-  is  no  safe  way  lor  a  youn^  man,  as 


314  STRONG  DRINK; 

he  makes  his  entry  into  this  world's  busy,  exciting 
and,  in  too  many  cases,  exhausting  arena,  hut  that 
of  complete  abstinence  from  beverages  in  which 
alcohol  is  found." 

"It  certainly  has  its  good  as  well  as  its  evil 
effects,"  said  the  young  man.  "Used  in  modera- 
tion, it  serves  as  a  restorative  in  some  cases,  and  as 
a  tonic  and  vitalizer  in  many  others.  And  in  cer- 
tain forms  of  disease  it  is  almost  a  specific ;  at  least, 
I  have  so  understood." 

"  I  scarcely  think  you  have  studied  this  subject  in 
the  light  of  more  recent  investigations  and  expe- 
riences," remarked  Mr.  Granger. 

"  In  truth,  I  have  not  studied  it  at  all.  But  there 
are  facts  which  are  commonly  known  and  accepted, 
and  these  scarcely  warrant  the  complete  banishment 
to  which  our  extreme  temperance  advocates  would 
subject  all  kinds  of  liquor,  not  excepting  beer  and 
the  lighter  wines." 

"There  are  many  inferences,  and  loose  sayings, 
and  unproved  assertions  in  regard  to  the  beneficial 
effects  of  alcohol  on  the  human  body,  as  well  in 
health  as  in  sickness,"  was  replied,  "  but  one  after 
another,  they  are  being  disproved,  until  the  sub- 
stance called  alcohol  has,  by  the  ablest  chemists  and 
pathologists,  with  only  an  exception  here  and  there, 
been  set  over  to  the  side  of  poisons.  It  has  no  food 
value  whatever;  and  its  disturbing  and  disorgan- 
izing effects  have  become  so  well  known  in  the 
medical  profession,  that  even  the  small  number  of 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

intelligent  physicians  who  hold  to  its  administration 
in  certain  cases,  the  range  of  which  grows  narrower 
every  day,  are  giving  it  with  great  caution  and  in 
very  small  doses." 

"  Is  this  really  so  ?"  asked  the  young  man,  show- 
ing some  surprise. 

"  It  is  just  as  I  have  said,"  replied  Mr.  Granger. 
"This  whole  subject  is  receiving  the  most  careful 
attention  from  the  best  medical  experts;  and  the 
day  of  guess  work  and  loose  generalization  is  over. 
Nothing  will  now  do  for  prudent  men  but  rigid 
analysis  and  clearly-established  fact.  Let  me  urge 
upon  you,  in  the  outset  of  life,  to  give  this  question 
of  the  true  effect  of  alcohol  on  the  human  system 
an  impartial  examination ;  to  challenge  a  substance 
that  works  such  fearful  havoc  among  men,  and 
require  it  to  answer  in  no  uncertain  speech.  If  it 
be  a  friend  of  the  people,  there  will  be  no  difficulty 
in  establishing  the  fact;  if  an  enemy,  the  case  can 
be  made  equally  clear." 

"Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,  Mr.  Granger," 
said  the  young  man.  "There  is  reason  in  what 
you  say.  I  will  look  into  this  matter  more  •care- 
fully, and  if  I  find  it  as  you  allege,  I  shall  not 
h»M!:ite  about  my  future  attitude." 

"  I  f  you  will  come  and  see  us  to-morrow  evening, 
I  think  you  will  be  likely  to  hear  a  discussion  on 
this  subject  that  will  interest  you.  A  few  friends 
are  coming  in,  among  whom  will  be  a  Dr.  Gilbert, 
frum  New  York,  who  has  given  the  subject  of  in- 


316  STRONG  DRINK; 

ebriation  and  the  action  of  alcoholic  stimulants  on 
the  human  body,  a  careful  study  for  many  years. 
He  is  no  temperance  enthusiast,  as  the  people  are 
too  much  inclined  to  call  such  men  as  I  am,  but  a 
cool-headed  observer,  who  will  be  satisfied  with 
nothing  in  relation  to  this  subject  which  the  most 
perfect  methods  of  chemical  analysis  and  physio- 
logical investigation  have  not  settled.  You  will  be 
impressed  with  him  as  a  man  who  knows  whereof 
he  speaks." 

•  "Thank  you,  Mr.  Granger.  I  shall  certainly 
avail  myself  of  the  opportunity.  It  is  clear  seeing 
that  makes  right  action.  But  to  act  where  the 
judgment  is  not  convinced  is  never  wise.  And  this 
is  the  cause  of  my  hesitation  now.  I  might  pro- 
mise you  that  I  would  never  take  wine  or  brandy ; 
but  if  I  did  not  think  it  wrong,  for  some  clearly- 
seen  reason,  to  use  these  articles,  my  promise  would 
ever  after  be  an  annoying  impediment,  and  might 
be  broken.  But  if  my  promise  rests  on  principle ; 
if  I  abstain  from  prudence  and  judgment ;  my  atti- 
tude towards  the  drinking  customs  of  society  will 
express  my  true  sentiments,  and  I  shall  stand  firm 
on  the  solid  ground  of  my  convictions." 

"  Which  will  be  far  better,"  returned  Mr.  Granger. 


CIIAPTER  XXII. 

OX  arriving  at  Mr.  Granger's,  I  found  a  small 
but  select  company.  There  were  Dr.  Gilbert, 
and  Judge  Arbuckle  and  his  wife,  whom  I  had  been 
particularly  invited  to  meet.  Mr.  Stannard  was 
tin-re  also;  and  a  Mrs.  K ,  one  of  the  represen- 
tative women  who  were  actively  engaged  in  the  work 
of  Christian  temperance  reform.  I  had  not  before 
seen  young  Henry  Pickering,  and  was  attracted  by 
his  face  and  bearing ;  and  particularly  so,  as  it  was 
plain,  from  unmistakable  signs,  that  he  was  more  to 
Amy  Granger  than  an  ordinary  acquaintance.  But 
I  did  not  fail  to  observe  that  there  was  in  the  atti- 
tude of  these  young  people  towards  each  other  a 
<•« Ttain  reserve  that  was  almost  embarrassment 
During  the  conversation  that  ensued,  and  which 
soon  drifted  into  a  discussion  of  the  claims  of  alco- 
hol to  have  any  nutritive  or  therapeutical  value,  I 
was  struck  by  the  intentness  with  which  Amy 
watched  the  young  man's  face,  as  if  trying  to  read  his 
thoughts;  and  there  was,  at  times,  a  restlessness  in 
her  manner  that  was  particularly  noticeable,  with 
occasional  swift  changes  in  the  expression  of  her 
countenance.  You  saw  it  light  up  suddenly  wln-n 
some  strong  point  was  made  by  Dr.  Gilbert ;  and 
317 


318  STRONG  DRINK; 

this  was  always  accompanied  by  a  glance  towards  the 
young  man  who  was  seated  by  her  side. 

Dr.  Gilbert,  whom  I  had  not  met  before,  was  a 
man  about  fifty,  with  a  quiet,  thoughtful  face.  You 
saw  in  his  eyes,  which  were  a  dark  gray,  that  steady, 
intent  expression  which  comes  of  earnest  thought. 
His  mouth  was  firm,  its  character  harmonizing  with 
what  you  saw  in  his  eyes.  You  recognized  him  at 
once  as  a  man  with  whom  neither  fancy  nor  impulse 
could  have  much  influence. 

Judge  Arbuckle  was  another  style  of  man  alto- 
gether. He  was  taller,  with  a  finer  muscular  de- 
velopment, and  a  larger  head.  His  eyes  were 
darker,  and  so  was  his  complexion.  All  his  features 
broke  into  a  quicker  play,  and  you  perceived  at  once 
that  he  was  a  man  of  sentiment  and  feeling  as  well 
as  of  intellect  and  perception,  and  that  in  any  direc- 
tion in  which  he  might  throw  himself  he  would 
display  both  mental  vigor  and  force  of1  will. 

It  was  curious  to  see  these  two  men  meet  in  the 
discussion  I  had  come  prepared  to  hear.  But  I 
knew  enough  of  the  results  of  recent  investigations 
in  regard  to  alcohol,  to  be  very  well  satisfied  about 
the  issue,  if  Dr.  Gilbert  was  as  well  posted  in  facts 
and  results  as  I  had  reason  to  believe. 

I  will  not  hold  the  reader  in  any  of  the  prelimi- 
nary phases  and  drifts  of  conversation  into  which 
the  company  fell,  but  bring  him  in  contact  therewith 
where  the  points  of  interest  were  clear,  and  bore 
with  distinctive  force  on  the  main  subject  under 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  319 

;-sion,  which  was  the  affirmation  on  one  side 
that  alcohol,  if  used  in  moderation,  was  beneficial, 
and  the  declaration  on  the  other  that  its  action  on 
the  human  body,  except  in  some  very  unusual  con- 
ditions, was  always  hurtful. 

"  I  claim,"  said  Judge  Arbuckle,  "  that  wine,  and 
in  many  cases  brandy,  are  necessary  articles,  both 
in  diet  and  medicine.  They  assist  nature  in  the 
work  of  digestion,  and  give  tone  to  weakened  nerves. 
I  have  seen  many  lives  saved,  under  conditions  of 
extreme  prostration,  by  the  use  of  spirits.  In 
typhoid  fevers,  brandy,  as  you  well  know,  is  the 
physician's  sheet-anchor.  Without  it,  three  out  of 
every  five  of  his  patients  would  die  from  simple  lack 
of  heart-power,  which  can  only  be  restored  through 
active  stimulation.  In  sudden  attacks  of  illness,  as 
in  faintings,  cholics,  a  suspension  of  heart-action,  or 
exhaustion  from  fatigue  or  cold,  there  is  nothing 
that  will  act  so  quickly  as  a  glass  of  brandy.  I 

r  think  of  leaving  home  without  a  supply ;  and 
should  regard  myself  as  culpable  were  I  to  do  so. 
I  can  point  to  scores  of  instances  in  which  a  timely 
draught  of  brandy  has  saved  me'  from  a  spe.ll  of 
sickness,  if  it  has  Hot  saved  my  life.  There  is  one 

that  should  never  be  overlooked.  Society  is 
not  in  a  normal  condition.  It  is  overworked.  There 
is  a  strain  upon  everything,  and  a  consequent  ex- 
haustion of  strength.  Nature,  always  quick  in  her 
instinct  of  danger,  has,  at  the  same  time,  as  quirk 
a  perception  of  the  remedy  needed ;  and  her  iiidica- 


320  STROXG  DRINK; 

tion  is  unmistakable  here.  It  is  stimulation  that  is 
required.  All  men  feel  this;  and  the  universal 
resort  to  stimulants  of  one  kind  or  another  is  but 
the  natural  and  necessary  response  to  the  demands 
of  our  exhausted  and  failing  vital  forces." 

The  judge  spoke  with  considerable  warmth  of 
manner,  and  with  a  tone  and  emphasis  which  ex- 
pressed his  firm  conviction  that  the  assertions  he  was 
making  were  unanswerable. 

"  Facts  and  experience  are  stubborn  things,  doc- 
tor," he  closed  by  remarking ;  "  and  these  we  have 
in  abundance.  But  men  who  have  pet  theories" — 
he  smiled  pleasantly  as  he  said  it — "  are  wonderfully 
skilled  in  the  art  of  explaining  away  both." 

Dr.  Gilbert  did  not  seem  to  be  in  any  haste  to 
controvert  the  judge's  assertions.  His  first  response 
came  in  the  form  of  a  question. 

"  If  you  were  to  find  a  man  benumbed  with  cold, 
what  would  you  do  for  him  ?" 

"  Pour  a  glass  of  brandy  down  his  throat  as  quickly 
as  possible." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?" 

"To  heat  him  up,  of  course.  Heat  is  life;  cold 
is  death." 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  alcohol  lowers 
instead  of  raising  the  temperature  of  the  body." 

"  I  would  say  that  you  were  jesting." 

"And  yet  the  assertion  is  true." 

"  Did  you  ever  take  a  swallow  of  brandy  ?" 

"Yes." 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  321 

"  Did  it  make  you  feel  cold  or  warm  ?" 

"  I  felt  a  sense  of  warmth." 

"  Burning  up  even  to  your  face  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Is  heat  cold,  doctor  ?"  The  judge  spoke  as  one 
who  had  closed  the  controversy  in  a  single  sentence. 

"  Does  heat  cause  the  thermometer  to  fall  ?"  asked 
Dr.  Gilbert. 

"  I  do  not  see  the  drift  of  your  question,"  replied 
the  judge. 

"After  the  most  carefully  conducted  experiments, 
often  repeated,"  said  the  doctor,  "  the  fact  has  been 
clearly  established  that  alcohol,  instead  of  imparting 
warmth  to  the  body,  actually  lowers  its  tempera- 
ture." 

Judge  Arbuckle  shook  his  head  in  a  decided 
negative.  "  If  I  take  glass  of  wine  or  brandy,  I 
come  into  an  immediate  glow.  It  doesn't  do  to  tell 
me  that  I  feel  cold.  Experiment  may  prove  what 
it  can ;  but  it  certainly  cannot  prove  this — at  least 
not  to  my  satisfaction.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 
(••  .1-  >r  blindness ;  and  a  like  defect  may  exist  in  some 
of  the  other  senses.  Feeling  with  some  may  be 
blind  also,  and  mistake  heat  for  cold." 

"A  young  lady  blushes,"  said  the  doctor,  in  reply. 
"You  will  hardly  suy  that  because  her  cheeks  have 
become  hot  the  temperature  of  her  whole  body  has 
been  raised;  but  rather  infer  that  the  equilibrium  of 
heat  Las  been  disturbed,  or  that  tlie  capillaries  have 
become  relaxed  and  suffused.  An  impulse  of  feeling 
21 


322  STRONG  DRINK; 

has  disturbed  the  heart's  action,  and  made  its  bents 
more  violent.  Suppose  this  temporary  engorgement 
of.  the  minute  blood  vessels  of  the  skin  were  to  take 
place,  with  a  sense  of  heat  all  over  the  body,  would 
there  not  be  an  increased  radiation  of  heat  from  all 
the  surface,  and  a  consequent  lowering  of  the  body's 
temperature,  especially  with  the  interior  organs?" 

"  But  what  has  the  blushing  of  a  young  lady  to. 
do  with  the  colorific  or  refrigerant  effect  of  a  glass 
of  brandy  ?"  asked  the  judge. 

"  The  phenomenon  observed  in  both  cases  is  due 
to  the  same  cause,"  said  the  doctor.  "Alcohol  re- 
laxes the  minuter  vessels  so  that  they  are  unable  to 
return  the  blood  promptly  to  the  circulation  ;  cuta- 
neous engorgements  follow,  with  an  increase  of  sur- 
face heat,  and  accelerated  radiation.  The  effect  on 
the  extremities  of  the  nerves  is  that  of  a  warm  glow, 
such  as  is  felt  during  a  reaction  from  cold.  Instead 
of  there  being  an  actual  increase  in  the  general 
temperature  of  the  body,  as  the  result  of  alcoholic 
stimulant,  a  reduction  takes  place,  as  has  been 
proved  over  and  over  again  by  the  thermometer." 

"  You  take  me  out  of  my  depths  here,  doctor.  I 
have  never  given  much  attention  to  physiology," 
answered  the  judge,  a  little  less  confident  in  his 
manner. 

"  But  you  know  what  common  sense  is ;  and  how 
to  deduce  conclusions  from  well-established  facts.  It 
is  the  habit  of  your  mind  to  weigh  evidence.  Now, 
for  the  sake  of  the  truth,  which  is  as  dear  to  you  as 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  '  303 

to  any  man  living,  will  you  not,  for  a  little  while, 
take  the  place  of  a  judge  in  this  controversy,  and 
give  to  the  evidence  I  shall  bring  against  alcohol  as 
nn  enemy  to  the  human  race,  the  grave  considera- 
tion it  should  have  ?" 

"  I  accept  the  office  to  which  you  so  gracefully 

assign  me,"  replied  the  judge,  smiling.     "  But  as  I 

•  my  client  without  an  advocate,  I  shall  claim 

the  right  to  say  a  word  in  his  behalf  if  I  think  you 

treat  him  unfairly." 

"As  many  words  as  you  please.  If  there  is  any 
good  in  him  I  should  like  to  know  it;  but  I  am  free 
to  say,  that  the  more  carefully  I  investigate  his 
claim  to  be,  in  any  sense,  a  friend  to  the  human 
race,  except  for  what  service  he  may  give  in  chern- 
i.-try  and  the  arts,  the  more  complete  are  my  convic- 
tions that  he  is  only  an  enemy.  I  cannot  find  a 
single  thing  in  which  the  harm  of  his  presence  is 
not  greater  than  the  good. 

"  But  we  were  talking  about  the  heat-producing 
quality  of  alcohol.  Now,  heat  is  generated  through 
tin-  union  of  oxygen  with  carbon,  by  which  the  latter 
is  consumed.  There  are  certain  articles  of  food,  such 
as  the  fat,  starches  and  sugars,  which  are  known  as 
-producing  and  force-generating,  and  chemistry 
i-  at  no  loss  in  regard  to  them.  Their  value  has 
been  determined  with  the  greatest  accuracy.  The 
amount  of  heat  that  each  of  these  substances  will 
when  takrn  into  the  body  has  been  carefully 
measured,  and  is  known  to  all  in  our  profession. 


324  STRONG  DRINK; 

But  in  regard  to  alcohol,  so  long  held  even  by  med- 
ical men,  to  be  a  heat-producer,  animal  chemistry 
has  not  yet  been  made  to  detect  any  evidence  of  ox- 
idation, the  blood  showing  none  of  the  usual  results 
of  this  process.  And  now,  since  we  have  been  using 
the  thermometer  as  a  test  of  the  internal  temperature 
of  the  body,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  heating  value 
of  foods,  or  its  thermal  condition  under  various  dis- 
turbing influences,  we  find  that  when  alcohol  is 
taken  there  follows  a  marked  reduction  of  heat. 
The  best  medical  writers  now  agree  on  this  subject ; 
and  some  practitioners  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to 
administer  it  in  fever  as  a  cooling  agent. 

"Even  before  science  had  made  this  discovery 
of  the  non-heat-generating  power  of  alcohol,  arctic 
navigators  had  learned  from  experience  that  the  use 
of  spirits  lessens  a  man's  ability  to  withstand  cold; 
and  now  the  extreme  northern  voyager  avoids  its 
use  altogether,  in  order  to  retain  sufficient  heat  to 
sustain  him  under  the  intense  cold  to  which  he  is 
subjected.  In  the  voyage  made  in  search  of  Sir 
John  Franklin,  no  alcoholic  stimulants  were  used ; 
and  the  northern  whaler  employs  them  very  spar- 
ingly or  not  at  all." 

"  Do  you  remember,"  said  Mr.  Stannard,  at  this 
point,  "a  Pole  named  Lemonowsky,  who,  some 
twenty  years  ago,  gave  lectures  in  this  country  on 
Napoleon  ?" 

Some  of  us  remembered  him  very  well. 
,    "  I  mentioned  him  because  of  a  lecture  he  gave  on 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  (TRE.  325 

temperance,  the  facts  of  which  fully  corroborate  what 
the  doctor  has  just  been  saying.  Lemonowsky,  who 
had  been  an  officer  in  Napoleon's  army,  stated,  that 
when  about  leaving  home,  as  a  boy,  his  father  placed 
his*  hand  upon  his  head,  and  after  declaring  that 
intoxicating  drinks  were  the  great  curse  of  mankind, 
solemnly  conjured  him  never  to  touch  or  taste  them; 
and  that  he  gave  his  father  a  promise  that  he  never 
would.  And  all  his  life  he  remained  true  to  that 
promise.  He  took  the  ground,  that  the  use  of  alco- 
hol in  extreme  cold,  extreme  heat  or  extreme  ex- 
haustion, was  dangerous,  and  often  fatal,  and,  in 
proof  of  his  position,  made  three  statements  of  re- 
markable facts  which  had  come  within  his  own  ob- 
servation and  experience. 

'  I/emonowsky  accompanied  Napoleon  in  his  in- 
u  of  Russia.  He  said,  that  among  his  imme- 
diate associates  in  the  army  were  about  thirty  who, 
like  himself,  wholly  abstained  from  ardent  spirits, 
and  that  while  men  who  drank  freely  were  dying 
almost  like  sheep  from  gangrene  and  other  diseases, 
brought  on  from  exposure  to  the  intense  cold,  every 
one  of  these  thirty  abstainers  were  in  good  health, 
and  every  one  came  back  from  that  disastrous  cam- 
.  In  Egypt,  when  heat  was  enervating  the 
army,  and  death  rapidly  reducing  its  numbers,  the. 
mm  who  refused  to  drink  ardent  spirits  still  retained 
thi-ir  health,  and  suffered  from  thirst  and  heat  far 
less  than  their  companions."  This  intelligent  Pole 
thm  went  on  t<>  ivlutf  how,  after  the  battle  of 


326  STRONG  DRINK; 

Waterloo,  and  the  delivery  by  the  allies  of  Marshal 
Ney  and  many  of  the  officers  to  the  French  at  Paris, 
he,  with  a  few  others,  effected  their  escape,  and  put 
to  sea  in  a  boat,  from  which  they  were  taken  while 
in  the  British  Channel  by  a  vessel  bound  to 'the 
United  States.  Subsequently  this  vessel  was  wrecked 
in  a  storm,  and  Lemonowsky  found  himself  again 
upon  the  sea  in  an  open  boat,  with  nine  companions 
and  only  a  small  supply  of  provisions  and  water. 
These  were  soon  used  up,  and  for  many  days  they 
had  nothing  to  eat  or  drink.  When  finally  rescued, 
by  a  vessel  bound  to  Philadelphia,  they  were  in 
such  an  extreme  state  of  exhaustion  that  they  had 
to  be  literally  carried  on  board.  'Immediately/ 
said  the  narrator,  '  on  being  placed  in  a  berth,  the 
ship's  doctor  brought  me  a  glass  of  hot  whisky  and 
water,  and  placed  it  to  my  lips.  But  I  refused 
to  drink  it.'  '  Y.ou  must,  or  you  will  die,'  he  said. 
*  Then  I  told  him  I  would  die,  for  I  never  had  and 
never  would  drink  intoxicating  liquor.  He  got 
angry,  and  swore  at  me,  and  called  me  a  fool.  But 
I  wouldn't  touch  his  whisky.  Well,  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  I  recovered ;  but  of  the  nine  who  were 
taken  with  me  out  of  the  boat,  and  who  took  the 
doctor's  stimulating  draught,  hot  even  though  it 
was,  every  one  died.  So,  you  see,  that  in  extreme 
cold,  or  heat,  or  exhaustion,  alcohol,  so  far  from 
being  useful,  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  sub- 
stances a  man  can  take  into  his  system.' ' 

"A  very  striking  experience,  certainly,"  said  Dr. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'i:K. 

Ciilln-rt,  "and  one  that  is  entirely  in  the  line  of 
jnate  results,  as  proved  by  the  latest  and  most 
carefully-conducted  experiments.  There  was  a  time 
when,  if  I  had  heard  this  story  of  Lemonowsky's,  I 
would  have  pronounced  it  a  bit  of  fancy  work,  or, 
at  least,  an  exaggeration  of  an  isolated  case  or  two 
which  were  but  exceptions  to  a  rule,  the  action  of 
which  was  all  on  the  other  side.  But  I  can  well 
believe,  now,  that  the  sturdy  old  Pole  gave  truthful 
evidence  of  which  he  knew.'1 

"If  I  understand  the  case,"  remarked  Judge 
Arbuckle ;  "  I  am  on  the  bench,  you  see,  and  am 
considering  the  evidence — the  result  of  some  recent 
experiments,  and  the  evidence  of  a  few  isolated  facts 
are  held  to  disprove  the  beneficial  effects  of  a  sub- 
stance which  medical  men  have  used  efficiently  for 
rations,  and  which  every  head  of  a  family  has 
administered  with  success  in  scores,  if  not  hundreds 
of  instances  of  sudden  sickness." 

"The  new  and  exhaustive  testa  to  which  this 
substance  has  been  subjected,"  replied  Dr.  Gilbert, 
"  have  nearly  all  been  conducted  within  the  last  ten 
S  and  so  conclusive  have  been  the  results,  that 
in  the  International  Mqdical  Congres*s,  which  met 
vear  in  Philadelphia,  at  which  over  six  hun- 
divd  delegates  from  this  country  and  Europe  were 
assembled,  a  report  was  adopted  in  which  alcohol 
was  declared  to  have  no  food  value  whatever,  and  to 
be  so  deleterious  in  its  effects  on  the  human  organism, 
as  to  leave  a  grave  doubt  whether,  even  as  a  medi- 


328  STRONG  DRINK;  . 

cine  in  the  most  extreme  cases,  it  did  not  do  more 
harm  than  good." 

"  Not  unanimously  adopted,  certainly." 
"The  facts  are  simply  these.  The  National 
Temperance  Society  sent  a  memorial  to  this  im- 
portant Congress,  asking  from  it  a  public  declara- 
tion to  the  effect  that  alcohol  should  be  classed  with 
other  powerful  drugs,  and  that  when  prescribed 
medicinally,  it  should  be  with  conscientious  caution 
and  a  sense  of  grave  responsibility.  That  it  should 
declare  it  to  be  in  no  sense  a  food  for  the  human 
system,  and  that  its  improper  use  is  productive  of  a 
large  amount  of  physical  disease,  tending  to  dete- 
riorate the  human  race ;  and  further,  to  recommend 
to  their  several  nationalities,  as  representatives  of 
enlightened  science,  a  total  abstinence  from  aloholic 
beverages.  The  consideration  of  this  memorial  was 
referred  to  the  *  Section  on  Medicine,'  in  which  the 
questions  proposed  were  discussed  with  marked 
ability  and  earnestness,  resulting  in  the  almost 
unanimous  adoption  of  an  elaborate  report  by  Dr. 
Ezra  M.  Hunt.  In  this  report  alcohol  is  declared 
to  have  no  food  value,  and  to  be  of  doubtful  utility 
as  a  medicine.  Indeed,  its  therapeutic  value  is 
limited  almost  exclusively  to  that  of  a  cardiac 
stimulant  in  certain  extreme  cases  which  often 
admit  of  substitutions.  Of  its  evil  and  destructive 
action  on  the  body  and  brain,  a  frightful  exhibit  is 
given.  This  report,  as  transmitted  by  the  '  Section 
on  Medicine'  to  the  General  Congress,  was  ordered 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  329 

by  that  body  to  be  sent  to  the  National  Temperance 
Society  as  an  answer  to  its  memorial." 

I  was  observing  the  face  of  Judge  Arbuckle  while 
Dr.  Gilbert  was  speaking.  The  grave,  almost  puz- 
/!«••!  expression  that  came  creeping  over  it,  was 
curious  to  see.  The  judge  had  a  respect  for  science, 
I*  .1  ruing  and  authority.  The  testimony  of  the  old 
Pole,  Lemonowsky,  went  for  almost  nothing.  But 
here  was  an  International  Medical  Congress  of  over 
six  hundred  eminent  physicians,  representing,  of 
course,  the  highest  intelligence  of  the  profession, 
littering  its  grave  condemnation,  and  at  a  word 
selling  up  the  bottle  from  which  he  had  been 
drawing  his  favorite  medicament,  and  declaring  its 
use  to  be  hurtful  in  nearly  every  case  of  adminis- 
tration. 

"  I  don't  know,  doctor,"  he  said/  "  whether  I  am 
really  awake  or  not;    all  this  is  so  new  and  im- 
probable.    I  shall  expect  to  hear,  presently,  that  a 
teak  has  its  hidden  dangers,  and   that   coffee 
will  poison  as  surely  as  arsenic." 

"Hy  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them;  and  it  so 
happens  that,  in  regard  to  alcohol,  there  is  no  diffi- 
culty about  the  fruit,"  returned  the  doctor. 

"  None  whatever  in  regard  to  its  abuse,"  returned 
the  judge.  "  That  is  admitted  by  every  one.  But 
we  are  talking  of  its  moderate  use  as  a  beverage,  and 
ortts  value  as  a  medicine.  Take  me,  for  example. 
I  have  used  more  or  less  wine  and  spirits  for  over 
twenty-five  years.  Few  men  enjoy  better  health. 


330  STRONG  DRINK; 

Except  some  torpor  of  the  liver,  winch  I  believe  is 
hereditary." 

Dr.  Gilbert  looked  steadily  into  Judge  Arbuckle's 
face  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  making  a  critical 
examination.  Then  reaching  out  his  hand,  he 
said:  "Let  me  feel  your  pulse,  judge." 

There  was  a  deep  pause  and  silence. 

"  With  some  slight  disturbance  of  the  heart  occa- 
sionally," remarked  the  doctor,  quietly. 

"Very  slight.  Nothing  to  speak  of,"  replied 
the  judge,  with  the  manner  of  one  who  felt  a  little 
disturbed. 

"A  sinking  sensation  after  exertion,  or  anxiety,  or 
abstinence  from  food  ?"  . 

"  Yes,  sometimes." 

"  Which  all  comes  right  after  a  good,  strong  glass 
of  brandy?" 

"Yes." 

"  You  find  this  occurring  oftener  than  it  did  a  few 
years  ago  ?" 

"Well,  yes.  I'm  getting  older,  you  see,  and 
any  organic  trouble  one  may  have  generally 
increases  with  age.  But,  fortunately,  I  know 
what  to  do,  and  have  my  remedy  always  at 
hand." 

"  In  some  form  of  alcoholic  stimulant  ?" 

"  Exactly." 

"  How  often  do  you  resort  to  this  remedy  ?  E^ry 
day?" 

I  saw  a  change  of  expression  in  the  judge's  face, 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  33^ 

and  a  contraction  of  his  brows,  as  he  replied:  "Al- 
most every  day." 

"  Especially  in  the  morning  before  you  have  taken 
fool 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  now,  Judge  Arbuckle,"  said  the  doctor, 
with  a  grave  smile  on  his  face,  "  did  it  never  occur 
to  you  that  the  remedy  you  are  taking  for  the  relief 
of  this  trouble  is  the  very  agent  by  which  it  has 
been  produced  ?" 

Judge  Arbuckle  shook  his  head  in  a  decided 
manner. 

"  And  that  your  torpid  liver  is  only  another  evi- 
dence of  organic  deterioration  produced  by  this 
favorite  remedy — or  shall  I  say  beverage — to  which 
you  resort  so  frequently  ?" 

"Organic  deterioration,  doctor!"  There  was  a 
covert  alarm  in  the  judge's  voice. 

*'  There  is  no  substance  used  by  man  which  pro- 
duces so  many  and  such  serious  organic  deterioration 
as  alcohol,"  replied  the  doctor,  speaking  soberly. 
"  There  is  not  an  organ,  or  delicate  nerve,  or  mem- 
brane, or  iluid,  or  vessel,  that  it  does  not  hurt  by 
contact,  or  deteriorate  if  the  contact  be  continued. 
Tin-  In-art,  which  is  the  centre  of  life,  is  subjected  to 
an  excess  of  strain  so  long  as  it  is  in  the  system,  be- 
cause, being  a  substance  that  is  never  digested,  or 
conviTifd  into  food  or  force,  it  hurts  and  disturbs 
until  elimination  takes  place.  But  this  strain,  or 
overwork,  is  the  least  of  the  evils  which  come  from 


332  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  presence  of  alcohol.  The  changes  and  deteriora- 
tions of  structure,  and  in  the  condition  of  the  blood, 
which  take  place  in  consequence  of  the  presence  of 
alcohol,  are  of  a  most  serious  character.  Let  me  try 
to  make  this  plain.  The  whole  surface  of  the  body, 
and  every  particular  organ,  muscle,  nerve,  blood- 
vessel, and  even  the  bones,  are  enveloped  in  sheaths 
or  coverings  called  the  membranes.  Besides  the  first 
apparent  use  of  these  membranes,  many  of  which 
serve  as  enveloping  bandages,  by  which  all  the 
structures  are  held  together  in  perfect  order,  they 
have  a  still  more  important  use  in  the  animal  econo- 
my. They  are  the  niters  of  the  body,  and  without 
them  there  could  be  no  building  of  the  structures 
they  line  or  enclose.  The  food  we  take  contains  all 
the  various  things  required  for  the  life  and  health  of 
the  body ;  albumen,  caesin  and  vegetable  film  for 
tissue  building ;  fat,  sugar  and  starch  for  the  produc- 
tion of  heat  and  force ;  water  as  the  general  solvent, 
and  salt  for  constructive  and  other  purposes.  These 
have,  after  digestion,  to  be  arranged  in  the  body, 
which  is  done  by  the  membranes,  through  which 
nothing  can  pass  which  is  not,  for  the  time,  in  a  state 
of  aqueous  solution.  "Water  passes  freely  through 
them,  and  so  do  soluble  salts ;  but  the  constructive 
albuminous  matter  does  not  pass  until  it  is  chemi- 
cally decomposed.  Upon  their  integrity  all  the 
silent  work  of  building  up  the  body  depends.  If 
these  membranes  are  rendered  too  porous,  and  let 
out  the  tissue-building  fluids  of  the  blood,  the  body 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  333 

dies  gradually,  as  if  it  were  being  slowly  bled  to 
death  ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  they  become  condensed  or 
thickened,  they  fail  to  let  the  natural  fluids  pass 
through  them,  and  the  result  is  either  an  accumula- 
tion of  fluids  in  a  closed  cavity,  or  the  contraction 
of  the  substance  enclosed  within  the  membrane,  or 
a  dryness  of  membranous  surfaces  which  ought  to 
be  freely  lubricated  and  kept  apart. 
.  "  Now,  the  most  carefully-conducted  experiments 

educed  the  fact  that  upon  all  the  membranous 
structures  alcohol  exerts  a  direct  and  perverting 
action.  It  produces  in  them  a  thickening,  a  shrink- 
in  ur  and  an  inactivity  that  reduces  their  functional 
power.  That  they  may  work  rapidly  and  equally, 
they  require  to  be  at  all  times  charged  with  water  to 
saturation  ;  and  an  agent  that  deprives  them  of  any 
portion  of  this  water  interferes  with  their  work,  and 

;lic  foundation  of  structural  derangements  and 
deteriorations  that  an- often  fatal  in  the  end.  Alco- 
hol i  :i  n  ajynt  which  possesses,  in  a  high  degree, 
this  jx)wer  of  absorbing  water;  and  as  soon  as  it  is 

n  into  the  body  it  begins  the  work  of  absorption. 
Dr.  Hunt,  in  his  report  to  the  Medical  Congress, 
says :  '  The  power  alcohol  has  of  drying  secretions, 
an«l  congesting  membranes,  is  unsurpassed  by  any 
known  remedy  in  general  use;' and  Dr.  Richard- 
son, in  his  Cantor  Lectures  on  Alcohol,  dwells  par- 
ticularly on  this  point  in  his  startling  exhibit  of  the 
destructive  cll<rts  of  alcohol  when  taken  into  the 
human  l>ody." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

almost  take  my  breath  away,  doctor !" 
exclaimed  Judge  Arbuckle,  affecting  a 
lightness  of  tone  that  did  not  wholly  conceal  the 
more  serious  impression  which  these  charges  against 
alcohol,  as  an  enemy  to  the  animal  organism,  had 
produced  on  his  mind.  "  I  was  going  to  ask  you  in 
what  specific  manner  this  substance  affects  the  heart 
and  the  liver ;  but  I'm  half  afraid." 

"  The  best  way  to  deal  with  any  danger,  is  to  look 
it  steadily  in  the  face,  and  measure  its  power  for 
evil,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Let  us  take  the  heart, 
which,  by  its  propelling  force,  sends  the  blood  along 
the  arteries.  One  of  the  first  effects  of  alcohol  is  a 
temporary  relaxation  or  paralysis  of  the  minuter 
blood-vessels,  which  shows  itself  often,  as  I  said  a 
little  while  ago,  in  a  sensation  of  heat.  This  causes 
the  heart  to  beat  more  quickly.  The  vessels  through- 
out the  whole  body  become  dilated,  and  are  held  in 
a  state  of  unnatural  relaxation  and  unnatural  tension. 
If  the  use  of  alcoholic  drinks  is  continued,  the  per- 
sistent pressure  causes,  in  the  course  of  time,  a  change 
in  the  diameters  of  these  vessels,  and  the  whole  mar- 
velous web- work  of  blood,  upon  which  the  organs  of 
the  body  are  constructed,  is  deranged.  Soon  the 
334 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  335 

functions  of  the  heart  become  perverted — for  it 
cannot  escape  the  effects  of  stimulation.  If,  to-day, 
under  the  excitement  of  wine  or  spirits,  it  gives 
twenty-five  thousand  strokes  in  twenty-four  hours 
more  than  its  usual  number,  it  cannot  to-morrow 
sink  back  to  the  old  rate  without  experiencing  some 
disturbance,  some  feebleness,  or  some  hesitation. 
And  is  it  not  fair  to  conclude  that  an  organ  which, 
by  its  own  stroke  feeds  its  own  substance  with 
blood,  must  be  among  the  first  to  suffer  from  irregu- 
lar supplies  of  blood  ?  As  stimulation  goes  on  in- 
creasing, the  heart,  whipped  to  greater  efforts, 
gradually  enlarges,  as  the  arm  does  by  excessive  use ; 
its  exquisite  valves,  subjected  to  prolonged  strain, 
are  drawn  out  of  their  fine  proportion ;  the  orifices, 
through  which  the  great  currents  of  blood  issue  in 
their  course,  are  dilated  ;  the  minute  chords  which 
IK »ld  the  valves  in  position  and  tension  are  elon- 
1 ;  and  the  walls  of  the  ventricles  are  thickened. 
All  thi.s  is,  of  course,  very  gradual,  and  nature,  ever 
on  the  alert  for  defense  or  repair,  holds  her  own,  as 
far  as  possible,  against  the  enemy  that  is  assaulting 
her,  and  disputes  the  ground  inch  by  inch,  and  for 
a  long  time  so  successfully,  that  but  few  outward 
HLMIS  of  the  evil  work  that  is  going  on  make  them- 
selves visible.  Hut  the  time  comes  when  her  power 
of  resistance  fails,  ami  when  deteriorations  of  organic 
W8  lx-in.  The  membranous  envelope  and 
lining  of  the  heart  thickens,  becomes  cartilaginous, 
and  even  bony.  To  this  may  siuree-l  degenerative 


336  STRONG  DRINK; 

changes  in  the  muscular  tissues  of  the  heart,  by 
which  the  power  of  contraction  may  be  reduced,  or 
fatty  cells  may  begin  to  replace  the  muscular  struc- 
ture. So  insidiously  do  these  organic  changes 
progress,  that  those  who  are  suffering  from  them 
are  scarcely  aware  of  the  mischief  until  it  is  far 
advanced.  They  are  for  years  conscious  of  a  failure 
of  central  power,  which  they  try  to  restore  by  the 
very  stimulation  that  produced  the  failure,  until,  in 
the  end,  the  remedy  ceases  to  act ;  whip  and  spur 
can  do  no  more,  and  the  poor,  jaded,  overworked 
heart  gives  up  the  hopeless  struggle." 

"And  the  man  dies,"  said  the  judge,  in  a  half- 
incredulous  voice.  But  his  manner  was  very  grave. 

"That  event  may  be  long  delayed;  for  nature 
never  yields  an  inch  of  ground  so  long  as  she  can 
defend  it,  and  when  forced  to  retire,  usually  does  it 
slowly,  fighting  as  she  retreats.  It  often  happens 
that,  before  the  heart  gives  up  the  struggle,  other 
vital  organs  are  subdued — the  brain,  the  liver  or 
the  lungs.  Sometimes  paralysis  or  apoplexy  ends 
the  contest.  Indeed,  death  comes  from  a  wide  range 
of  diseases,  which  have  their  origin  in  alcoholic 
deteriorations.  No  man,  who  uses  the  substance 
habitually  is  a  sound  man.  He  cannot  bear  ex- 
posure, or  sudden  changes  of  the  temperature,  or 
the  subtle  invasion  of  epidemics,  near  so  well  as  the 
man  who  never  permits  the  poison  to  enter  his 
system." 

"You  think  my  torpid  liver  comes  from   the 


THE  CUl^i:  AM)  THE  CUBE.  337 

•iice  of  alcohol  in  my  system?"  said  the 
judge. 

"  I  have  very  little  doubt  of  it ;  for  it  is  on  that 
organ  that  alcohol  most  frequently  works  structural 
changes/'  replied  Dr.  Gilbert  "The  liver  has  a 
remarkable  capacity  for  holding  active  substances  in 
its  cellular  parts.  In  cases  of  poisoning  from  arsenic, 
strychnine  and  other  substances,  we  turn  at  once  to 
the  liver  as  the  place  of  chief  deposit  for  foreign 
matter.  Alcohol  finds  its  way  there  promptly ;  and 
we  might  say  that,  with  the  free  drinker  of  ardent 
spirits,  it  is  almost  continually  saturated  with  it. 
The  effect  of  alcohol  on  the  liver  is  to  retard  free 
secretion  and  the  passage  of  fluids.  The  organ 
enlarges  at  first  from  the  distension  of  its  vessels 
and  the  thickening  of  its  tissues.  Afterwards  there 
follows  a  contraction  of  membrane,  and  a  slow 
shrinking  of  the  whole  mass  of  the  organ  in  its 
cellular  parts.  Dr.  Richardson,  in  his  Cantor  Lec- 
tures, to  which  I  have  referred,  clearly  describes 
this  process.  Of  course,  as  in  other  alcoholic  poi- 
soning, the  change  is  slow,  and  the  subject  of  it 
rarely  suspects  the  cause  of  his  trouble.  When  the 
liver  has  become  a  shrunken,  hardened  mass, 
dropsy  in  the  lower  extremities  appears,  and  the 
••>ii us  hopeless.  Sometimes,  in  these  ex- 
treme changes,  a  fatty  degeneration  takes  place." 

I  saw  the  judge  glance  down  at  his  feet  and  move 
them,  I  thought,  a  little  uneasily,  when  Dr.  Gilbert 
spoke  of  dropsy  in  the  lower  extremities;  and  I 
22 


338  STEONG  DRINK; 

fancied  that  the  face  of  Mrs.  Arbuckle  changed 
suddenly.  There  was  a  pause,  which  no  one  seemed 
for  awhile  inclined  to  break. 

"If  all  this  be  so,  doctor,"  Judge  Arbuckle's 
brows  were  drawn  closely  together,  "  what  are  we  to 
do  with  the  fact  that  in  typhoid  fevers  brandy  is 
relied  upon  almost  as  much  as  if  it  were  a  specific 
for  that  disease  ?  If  alcohol  is  such  an  enemy  to 
the  human  body,  how  can  it  act  as  a  friend  here  ? 
Poison  is  poison,  and  works  destructively,  whether 
he  who  takes  it  be  sick  or  well." 

"  Does  your  physician  make  free  use  of  brandy 
in  typhoid  fever  ?" 

"  He  did  as  late  as  six  months  ago,"  replied  the 
judge.  "  But  now,  that  we  are  talking  on  this  sub- 
ject, I  recall  the  fact  that  since  then  one  of  my 
neighbors,  whose  daughter  was  down  with  this 
fever,  sent  him  away  and  called  in  another  physi- 
cian, because  milk  punch  was  interdicted.  My 
neighbor  would  not  take  the  risk  of  any  experi- 
ments with  his  child.  He  had  always  seen  milk 
punch  given  freely  in  typhoid  fever,  and  as  Dr. 

D refused  to  let  it  be  given,  on  the  ground 

that  he  had  adopted  some  new  theory  of  cure,  he 

was  discharged,  and  the  case  given  to  Dr.  L , 

who  held  strictly  to  the  old  mode  of  treatment." 

"  What  was  the  result." 

"  It  was  a  very  bad  attack.  I  remember  it  all 

now.  Dr.  D was  severely  blamed  by  the  family 

for  his  treatment  of  the  case  while  it  was  in  his 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUB  Cl'llK.  339 

hands.  He  let  it  sink  so  low  for  lack  of  stimula- 
tion, that  when  brandy  was  given  it  was  too  late  to 
produce  any  reactive  effect." 

"  And  the  patient  died?" 

"Yes." 

"  Killed  by  the  brandy,  most  likely.  Nature  had 
all  that  she  could  do  to  fight  single-handed  with  her 
enemy.  To  give  him  a  recruit  was  to  make  his 
victory  sure." 

You  speak  very  confidently,  Dr.  Gilbert." 

"  Because  I  speak  from  the  stand-point  of  accu- 
rate knowledge  in  regard  to  the  action  of  alcohol, 
as  well  as  from  the  experience  and  observation  of 
the  most  enlightened  men  in  our  profession.  No 
physician,  who  has  kept  pace  with  the  advance  of 
medical  science  in  the  past  few  years,  would  now 
due  to  risk  the  life  of  his  patient,  or  to  retard  his 
cure,  by  giving  him  alcohol  freely  in  any  serious 
illness.  If  administered  at  all,  it  would  be  in  very 
small  doses,  and  with  an  exceeding  close  observation 
of  its  effects.  If  I  had  you  in  my  library,  I  could 
refer  you  to  the  recorded  testimony  in  medical  jour- 
nals, treatises  and  text-books  of  the  most  distin- 
guished and  trustworthy  members  of  the  profession 
in  this  country  and  Europe,  on  the  subject  of  the 
use  of  alcohol  in  disease ;  and  with  scarcely  an  ex- 
ception, it  is  unfavorable.  Where  its  use  is  now  sanc- 
tioned at  all,  it  is  under  the  strictest  limitations,  and 
with  the  greatest  injunctions  of  caution.  Prof. 
Loomis,  of  New  York  city,  who  does  not  entirely 


340  STRONG  DRINK; 

exclude  alcohol  in  his  treatment  of  typhoid  fever, 
says,  that  in  this  disease  the  experience  of  very  few 
physicians  is  such  as  to  enable  them  to  determine 
from  the  patient's  appearance,  when  the  administra- 
tion of  stimulants  should  be  commenced,  and  that 
where  there  is  reasonable  doubt  as  to  the  propriety 
of  giving  or  withholding,  it  is  better  to  withhold 
them.  He  admits  a  possible  value,  but  admonishes 
the  physician  when  prescribing  alcohol  to  his  pa- 
tient in  this  disease  to  see  him  at  least  every  two 
hours,  and  to  watch  the  effect  with  the  greatest  care. 
Dr.  Hunt,  while  approving  this  extremely  guarded 
use,  says,  that  many  excellent  practitioners  rely 
wholly  on  ammonia,  ethers  and  foods  in  such 


cases." 


"  The  evidence  against  my  client  continues  to  ac- 
cumulate," said  the  judge,  with  something  like  a 
grim  smile  on  his  face.  "Anything  more,  Dr. 
Gilbert?" 

"  The  testimony,  if  all  were  taken,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "would  require  this  court  to  remain  in  session 
for  weeks,  and  if  printed,  would  fill  many  volumes. 
There  are  a  few  things  more  which  I  would  like  to 
say,  if  you  have  patience  to  hear  them.  The  pris- 
oner at  the  bar,  your  honor,  is  an  exceedingly  dan- 
gerous fellow ;  and  it  may  be  well  to  permit  those 
who  know  him  best,  and  who  understand  his  hidden 
and  subtle  ways,  and  the  evils  that  are  wrought  by 
his  hands,  to  offer  still  further  evidence  against  him. 
Kichardson  says  of  alcohol,  that  it  dries  the  liver, 


the  stomach  and  the  lungs ;  and  even  steals  moisture 
from  the  corpuscles  of  the  blood ;  and  more  than  any 
other  article  in  common  use,  initiates  degeneration  of 
important  organs.  A  claim  has  been  made  for  al- 
cohol that  it  fattens  the  body,  if  that  be  a  desirable 
iv.- u It.  Many  beer-drinkers  certainly  do  become 
i'at ;  but  as  a  substance  which  contains  no  fatty  ma- 
terial cannot  produce  fat,  investigation  may  naturally 
seek  for  a  reason  in  the  pathological  effects  of  alco- 
hol. It  is  found  that  the  individual  so  fattened  in- 
variably diminishes  in  physical  activity,  and  in  the 
power  of  endurance  in  proportion  to  his  increase  of 
weight ;  and  this  is  held  to  be  due  to  a  degenerative 
change  in  the  more  actively  vital  materials  of  the 
body,  and  the  slow  accumulation  of  un  eliminated 
carbonacious  material.  It  is  really  disease  and  not 
health ;  the  product  of  a  degenerative  and  not  a 
normal  process.  If  alcohol  can  serve  the  human 
body  no  better  than  this,  the  body  might  well  dis- 
pense with  its  service. 

"As  a  digester,  alcohol  has  a  wide  reputation. 
Men  take  it  before  a  meal  to  prepare  the  stomach 
for  its  work,  and  with  and  after  a  meal  to  assist  it  in 
doing  its,  work.  Now,  what  has  the  medical  pro- 
fession to  say  on  this  subject ;  and  what  is  the  re- 
sult of  careful  test,  analysis  and  observation  ?  One 
authority  drclares  that  alcohol,  when  added  to  the 
digestive  fluid,  *  produces  a  white  precipitate,  which 
susjM-nds  digestion;'  and  Rirhardson  dtvlans  that 
of  all  the  systems  of  organs  that  sulli-r  from  the  use 


342  STRONG  DRINK; 

of  alcohol,  two,  viz :  the  digestive  and  the  nervous, 
are  effected  most  determinately.  The  stomach,  he 
remarks,  being  unable,  because  of  the  presence  of 
alcohol,  to  produce,  in  proper  quantity,  the  natural 
digestive  fluid,  and  also  unable  to  absorb  the  food 
which,  in  consequence,  is  but  imperfectly  digested, 
becomes  affected  with  anxiety  and  irritation,  or  op- 
pressed with  nausea,  or  with  a  sense  of  distension, 
or  with  a  loathing  for  food,  or  an  unnatural  craving 
for  drink.  This  self-inflicted  disease,  as  it  becomes 
confirmed,  is  called  dyspepsia ;  and  the  sufferer,  in- 
stead of  giving  up  his  wine,  or  spirits,  takes  pills,  or 
pours  into  his  poor  abused  stomach  floods  of  effer- 
vescing and  mineral  waters ;  does,  in  fact,  a  hundred 
foolish  things  by  which  he  is  made  worse.  Between 
his  drinking  and  his  medicine,  he  increases  his  indi- 
gestion, until  it  takes  on  a  chronic  form,  and  all 
enjoyment  of  life  is  over." 

"  One  might  infer  from  all  this,"  the  judge  here 
remarked,  "  that  our  prisoner  at  the  bar  is  responsi- 
ble for  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to." 

"  His  responsibility,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  has  a 
far  wider  range  than  most  people  imagine.  The 
consumption  of  spirits,  wine,  ale  and  beer  reaches, 
annually,  in  this  country,  the  enormous  amount  of 
over  three  hundred  millions  of  gallons.  Is  it  possible 
for  the  people  to  consume  this  vast  quantity  of  a  bev- 
erage containing  from  two  or  three  to  over  sixty  per 
cent,  of  a  substance  which,  in  the  words  of  Dr. 
Hunt,  is  '  beyond  dispute,  fraught  with  the  most 


THE  CUJISE  AND  THE  CURE.  343 

prevalent  and  direful  results  to  the  physical  struct- 
ure,' without  a  serious  impairment  of  the  puhlic 
health  in  the  reduction  of  vital  power,  and  in  func- 
tional derangements,  which  lay  the  foundations  of 

:-es  which  too  often  baffle  the  physician's  skill  ? 

iv  nothing  of  the  ills  that  afflict  our  social 
life,  which  are  more  terrible,  even,  than  the  ills 
from  which  our  bodies  suffer.  One  medical  writer 
says  of  alcohol :  '  It  helps  time  to  produce  the  effects 
of  age ;  it  is  the  genius  of  degeneration/  Another 
says :  '  Practical  medicine  tells  us  that  three-quarters 
of  all  diseases  in  adults  who  drink  at  all  are  caused 
thereby/  and  farther,  that,  '  the  capacity  of  the 
alcohols  for  impairment  of  functions  and  the  initia- 
tion and  promotion  of  organic  lesion  in  vital  parts, 
is  unsurpassed  by  any  record  in  the  whole  range  of 
medicine ;'  these  facts  being  so  fully  granted  by  the 
profession  as  to  be  no  longer  debatable.  But  why 
continue  to  accumulate  evidence?  If  what  I  have 
stated  be  not  sufficient  to  convict  the  accused,  it 
would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  bring  other  allegations 
against  him." 

Judge  Arbuckle's  fine  face  lighted  up  as  he 
grasped  the  hand  of  Dr.  Gilbert,  and  said  :  "  I  must 
declare  the  evidence  to  be  complete ;  and  confess,  at 
tin-  -ame  time,  that  I  have  been  too  much  prejudiced 
against  temperance  reformers,  as  a  class,  to  give  this 
subject  the  careful  and  honest  investigation  it  should 
long  ago  have  received  at  my  hands.  "NVe  cling  to 
old  prejudices  sometimes  with  an  unreasoning  tenari- 


344  STRONG  DRINK; 

ty,  you  know.  But  is  the  statement  just  made  by 
you  taken  from  official  returns  ? — the  one  in  regard 
to  the  enormous  consumption  of  intoxicating  drinks 
in  this  country?" 

"It  is  from  Dr.  Hargreaves'  important  work, 
'  Our  Wasted  Resources/  which  ought  to  be  care- 
fully studied  by  every  intelligent  man  who  feels  an 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  country,  and  in  the 
well-being  of  the  people.  The  statements  given  are, 
of  course,  authentic.  And  let  me  refer  you,  also,  to 
the  exhaustive  report  on  'Alcohol  as  a  Food  and 
Medicine/  made  to  the  recent  Medical  Congress,  by 
Dr.  Ezra  W.  Hunt,  which  has  been  published  in  a 
volume  of  nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  pages ;  and 
to  Dr.  Richardson's  able  lectures  on  alcohol.  These 
works  are  candid,  honest  and  thorough,  and  offer 
abundant  means  for  an  examination  of  this  great 
subject,  on  the  right  treatment  and  adjustment  of 
which  hang  such  vast  results  of  good  or  evil.  I  shall 
feel  that  a  cause  which  my  judgment  approves,  and 
in  which  my  feelings  are  deeply  interested,  has 
gained  a  large  accession  of  strength,  if  you,  Judge 
Arbuckle,  should,  from  conviction  and  principle, 
range  yourself  upon  the  side  of  its  friends.  That 
cause  is  known  as  Total  Abstinence." 

The  light  which  had  come  breaking  into  Judge 
Arbuckle's  face,  as  he  grasped  the  doctor's  hand, 
faded  out  slowly,  a  sober,  thoughtful,  indeterminate 
expression  coming  in  its  stead.  "Total  abstinence!" 
Ever  since  he  could  remember,  these  two  words  1-a'l 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  <THE.  345 

.  in  his  mind,  the  synonym  for  ignorant  and 
meddlesome  fanaticism ;  and  he  had  felt  something 
like  contempt  for  men  who  could  let  the  glass  of 
rous  wine  pass  them  untasted.  He  must  be  a 
poor  milk-sop,  or  cold,  mean  and  unsocial,  who 
could  do  this,  he  thought.  In  standing  consciously 
above  this  class,  in  his  use  of  "  a  beverage  fit  for  the 
gods,"  the  judge  had  enjoyed  a  feeling  of  superiority, 
and  a  sense  of  more  affluent  manhood.  It  is  no 
cause  of  wonder,  then,  that  his  countenance  became 
exceedingly  grave  and  thoughtful.  Had  thape  men 
been  the  really  wise  ones  ?  Had  they  been  of  the 
prudent,  who,  foreseeing  the  evil,  hide  themselves, 
while  he,  passing  on  with  the  simple,  had  been  pun- 
ished ?  I  saw  that  a  great  conflict  was  going  on  in 
his  mind  ;  and  I  saw,  too,  that  his  wife  was  watching 
him  with  an  intensity  of  interest  which  she  made 
no  effort  to  conceal. 

"Total  abstinence,  doctor!"  The  judge  shook 
his  head.  "  I  believe  in  moderation.  And  all  you 
have  said  as  to  the  bad  effects  of  the  alcohol  con- 
lined  in  wine  and  spirits,  only  makes  moderation 
the  more  imperative." 

The  judge  had  risen  to  his  feet.  In  doing  so,  I 
noticed  a  slight  stiffness  of  movement  He  straight- 
en. •«!  himself  up  rather  slowly,  placing  one  hand 
tightly  above  his  right  hip,  and  holding  it  there  for 
i\  ti -W  moments.  Then  he  stepped  out  and  walked 
across  the  room.  There  was,  at  iir-i,  a  perceptible 
limp  in  one  leg ;  but  it  was  soon  gone. 


346  STRONG  DRINK; 

Dr.  Gilbert  smiled,  as  he  said :  "  Getting  a  little 
stiff,  judge?" 

"  Yes,"  was  answered  good  humoredly.  "  We  are 
none  of  us  as  young  as  we  were  twenty  years  ago." 

"A  man  ought  to  be  called  young  at  fifty,"  re- 
plied the  doctor.  "And  neither  you  nor  I  have 
gone  far,  if  at  all,  beyond  that  age." 

"  Fifty-one,"  said  the  judge. 

"  In  advance  of  me  less  than  a  year.  This  should 
be  the  age  of  full  vigor.  Every  organ  and  function 
in  the  Jpody,  if  there  has  been  no  overstrain,  nor 
exposure  to  morbific  causes,  ought  to  be  in  their 
highest  activity.  The  filtering  and  lubricating 
membranes  that  line  and  inclose  the  joints,  should 
be  in  perfect  health ;  and  so  should  the  membranes 
that  sheathe  the  muscles  and  nerves,  and  enfold  and 
line  the  vital  organs.  It  is  too  soon  for  age  to 
impair  the  action,  or  to  dry  the  fluids  of  any  part 
of  the  body's  wonderful  mechanism." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  doctor,"  returned  the 
judge.  "  I  am  acquainted  with  a;  great  many  men 
who  have  reached  fifty,  and  there  is  scarcely  one  of 
them  who  is  not  beginning  to  show  signs  of  ap- 
proaching age." 

"  What  about  their  habits  ?  Are  they  strictly 
temperate  men?  Total  abstinence  from  alcoholic 
drinks,  I  mean?" 

"  No.  They  are  for  the  most  part,  good,  gener- 
ous livers,  but  not  given  to  excess,  except,  perhaps, 
in  a  few  cases." 


THK  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  347 

Dr.  Gilbert  smiled,  as  he  said :  "  The  effects  cf 
arsenic,  when  taken  into  the  stomach  moderately, 
have  been  carefully  observed  and  recorded,  and  are 
so  well  known  to  the  physician,  that  he  rarely,  if 
ever,  mistakes  them.  Now,  if  he  were  called  to  see 
a  patient  who  had  been  indulging  in  the  moderate 
use  of  arsenic,  and  found  all  the  indications  of 
arsenic  poison  about  him,  would  he  not  fairly  con- 
clude that  it  was  arsenic,  and  not  old  age  or  any- 
thing else  that  was  working  the  mischief.  The 
case  with  your  friends  is  in  exact  parallel  with  this. 
The  effects  of  alcoholic  poison  have  been  as  carefully 
noted  and  recorded  as  that  produced  by  arsenic. 
\Ve  know  just  what  it  does  in  the  human  body,  and 
how  it  does  it,  and  what  the  indications  of  its  health- 
destroying  actions  are.  And  when  we  see  a  man 
who  regularly  uses  alcohol  in  any  of  its  forms, 
suffering  from  the  troubles  which  we  know  alcohol 
produces,  we  naturally  assign  the  cause  of  his  ail- 
ments to  the  poison  he  has  taken.  If  we  find  him 
troubled  with  sciatica,  and  know,  as  we  do,  that 
alcohol  perverts  the  membranous  coverings  of  the 
nerves,  and  gives  rise  to  pressure  within  the  sheath 
of  the  nerve,  and  to  pain  in  consequence,  we 
natually  infer  that  the  origin  of  his  trouble  lies  in 
the  poison  of  alcohol.  If  the  neuralgia  is  in  the 
face,  commencing  at  some  point  where  a  nerve 
ymrn  through  an  opening  in  the  bone,  as  near  the 
centre  of  the  chin,  or  in  front  of  the  lower  part  of 
the  ear,  or  over  the  evr,  and  we  know  that  alcohol 


348  STRONG  DRINK; 

thickens,  as  I  have  shown,  the  sheath  of  the  nerve, 
we  do  not  hesitate  to  conclude  that  this  thickening 
has  gone  oa  until  the  bony  openings  have  become 
too  small,  and  congestion  and  intense  suffering  are 
the  consequence.  If  one  of  our  moderate-drinking 
patients  has  any  of  the  troublesome  forms  of  indi- 
gestion, we  refer  the  cause  to  the  alcohol  contained 
in  his  favorite  beverage,  for  we  know  that  alcohol 
not  only  retards  instead  of  promoting  digestion,  but 
weakens  and  diseases  the  stomach.  If  he  is  afflicted 
with  insomnia,  we  see  in  this  most  serious  condition 
the  result  of  the  relaxation  of  the  blood-vessels  of 
the  brain,  caused  by  the  presence  of  alcohol,  and 
their  consequent  inability  to  return  the  blood 
promptly  to  the  heart ;  or  if  his  sleep  be  heavy  and 
apoplectic  in  character,  we  know  that  this  relaxation 
of  the  blood-vessel  is  so  great  as  to  result  in  en- 
gorgement and  danger.  If  there  is  fatty  degenera- 
tion of  the  heart,  or  kidneys,  or  liver,  we  know  that 
alcohol  will  do  this  very  thing.  If  we  find  Bright's 
disease,  we  know  that  the  action  of  alcohol  is  to 
deteriorate  the  lining  membranes  of  the  kidneys,  by 
which  they  may  lose  their  power  to  retain  and 
rightly  dispose  of  the  albuminous  material  out  of 
which  the  tissues  of  the  body  are  constructed,  and 
let  it  pass  through  and  be  drained  from  the  system, 
which,  in  the  end,  is  certain  death.  I  could  go  on 
and  show  how  nearly  every  organic  disease  with  which 
our  poor  bodies  are  afflicted,  may  have  its  origin  in 
the  deteriorations  or  obstructions  caused  by  alcohol." 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  349 

"But,  doctor,  we  have  'tic,'  and  sciatica,  and  in- 
somnia, and  allmminuria,  and  all  the  diseases  you 
mention  in  persons  who  make  no  use  of  wine,  or 
beer,  or  spirits." 

" Of  course  we  have,"  was  replied.  "I  did  not 
mean  to  say  that  only  alcohol  causes  these  maladies. 
I  was  speaking  of  persons  who  were  habitual 
drinkers;  and  the  conclusion  I  wished  to  press  was, 
that  as  alcohol  would  produce  the  diseases  from 
which  they  were  suffering,  it  was  but  fair  to  assume 
that  alcohol  was  the  responsible  agent  in  their  spe- 
cial cases  of  suffering." 

"There  are  hereditary  tendencies  to  many  dis- 
eases, you  know,  doctor,"  said  the  judge,  speaking 
with  the  manner  of  one  who  was  being  driven  from 
ntrenchments,  and  with  little  more  than  a  sug- 
>n  in  hia  voice. 

"The  greater  reason  why  we  should  carefully 
avoid  everything  that  will  excite  these  tendem 
returned  the  doctor.  "If  there  be  one  substance 
which,  above  all  others,  in  common  use  among 
men,  disturbs  the  vital  functions,  and  works 
unhealthy  changes  in  every  particular  thing  in 
the  Ixxly  which  it  touches,  will  not  that  substance 
be  sure  to  give  to  all  hereditary  susceptibilities 
to  disease  a  quickening  force?  It  cannot  be  other- 
wise." 

The  judge  returned  to  his  chair;  and  as  he  sat 
down,  drew  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and 
wij»e<l  away  the  pcivpiratioii  which  had  collected  on 


350  STRONG  DRINK; 

his  forehead.     The  expression  of  his  countenance 
was  still  more  thoughtful  and  serious. 

"  Passing  from  the  physical  to  the  mental,"  said 
Dr.  Gilbert,  "  and  we  come  to  the  higher  and  more 
appalling  forms  of  disaster  which  spring  from  the 
drinking  customs  of  society.  Are  you  at  all  familiar 
with  these,  Judge  Arbuckle  ?" 

"  I  am  aware  that  many  cases  of  insanity  are  at- 
tributed to  intemperance ;  and  I  can  easily  see  that 
confirmed  drunkenness  must  tend  to  impair  the 
mental  as  well  as  the  bodily  powers,"  returned  the 
judge. 

"  Is  it  not  clear,"  resumed  the  doctor,  "  that  a 
substance  which  attacks  and  injures  every  functional 
structure  in  the  body,  must  seriously  affect  that 
delicate  and  wonderful  piece  of  mechanism,  the 
brain  ?  The  moment  you  disturb  this  organ,  you 
disturb  the  mind.  You  may  hurt  the  hand,  or  the 
foot,  or  almost  any  other  organ  or  member  of  the 
body,  and  yet  thought  may  remain  clear,  and  the 
intellect  balanced ;  but  touch  the  brain — congest  its 
finer  blood-vessels,  thicken  its  delicate  membranes 
and  impair  the  quality  of  the  nervous  matter  they 
inclose,  and  a  new  peril  begins.  Before,  it  was  only 
the  physical  man  that  was  in  danger;  now  it  is  the 
rational  and  the  moral  man.  A  deterioration  of 
brain-structure  has  commenced,  which,  if  not  ar- 
rested, may  terminate  in  insanity.  That  it  does  so 
terminate  we  know,  for  of  the  inmates  of  our  insane 
asylums,  from  fifteen  to  twenty  per  cent,  have  been 


TllK  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

reduced  to  their  melancholy  condition  through  in- 
temperance. The  percentage  would  be  placed  much 
higher,  if  we  included  all  the  cases  wherein  the 
l>ra  in  had  been  so  much  injured  by  alcohol  as  to  be 
unable  to  bear  the  shock  of  misfortune,  bereavement 
or  humiliation,  by  which  the  reason,  has  been  de- 
throned. 

"  Men  who  are  in  good  health  rarely  break  down 
and  lose  their  reason  in  consequence  of  business  dis- 
S  keen  disappointments  or  domestic  afflictions. 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm — and,  as  a  physician,  I 
know  of  what  I  speak — that  no  man  who  regularly 
uses  any  beverage  in  which  alcohol  is  present,  is,  or 
can  be,  in  perfect  health,  or  in  the  full  and  undis- 
turbed possession  of  his  mental  faculties.  He  is,  in 
the  decree  that  he  uses  this  substance,  sound  neither 
in  mind  nor  body,  and  is  exposed  to  more  imminent 
dangers  than  men  who  abstain  from  its  use  alto- 
gether. He  cannot  endure  the  same  amount  of 
physical  or  mental  strain  that  he  might  have  done 
if  there  had  been  no  impairment  of  function  or 
faculty.  Now,  a  point  that  I  wish  to  urge,  is  this: 
while  we  are  not  responsible,  as  moral  beings,  for 
the  sins  of  our  fathers,  there  is  laid  upon  us,  under 
the  law  of  transmission,  a  sad  heritage  of  diseased 
tendencies,  both  of  body  and  mind,  coining  down  to 
us  through  many  generations — arrested  and  modified 
in  one,  and  inten.-ilied,  it  may  be,  in  another.  A>  me 
take  this  legacy,  it  is  only  in  the  form, of  a  latent 
force.  If  our  lives  be  strictly  in  the  line  of  natural 


352  STRONG  DRINK; 

and  spiritual  laws ;  if  we  shun  excess  of  every  kind, 
and  hold  the  appetite  and  passions  in  check,  we  may 
keep  that  latent  force  inactive  and  harmless.  But 
if,  on  the  contrary,  we  indulge  our  appetites  and  pas- 
sions, and  disobey  the  laws  of  natural  and  spiritual 
health,  then  we  come  into  the  possession  of  this  evil 
legacy,  and  into  the  disorders  and  sufferings  it  en- 
tails; transmitting  it  with  an  intenser  vitality,  it 
may  be,  to  the  generation  that  comes  after  us.  Just 
what  this  legacy  of  evil  tendencies  may  be  in  your 
case  or  mine,  neither  of  us  can  know  until  we  violate 
some  law  of  natural  or  spiritual  health,  impelled 
thereto,  it  ^  may  be,  by  its  hidden  motions.  Then  it 
first  begins  to  gain  power  over  us.  There  may  be 
an  inherited  taint  of  insanity,  intemperance  or  con- 
sumption, which  an  orderly  life  and  good  health 
may  keep  from  ever  showing  itself.  But  let  such 
a  health-disturbing  element  as  alcohol  get  into  the 
body  and  brain,  and  who  may  foretell  the  conse- 
quences." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TOURING  the  whole  of  this  time,  scarcely  a  re- 
-L-'  mark  had  been .  made  by  any  one  except  the 
judge  and  Dr.  Gilbert ;  but  all  were  attentive  listeners; 
none  more  so  than  young  Henry  Pickering  and  Amy 
(i ranger.  My  attention  had  been  drawn  towards 
them  from  the  first,  and  the  impression  soon  came  to 
me  that  the  young  man's  attitude  towards  the  question 
under  discussion  had  not  been  altogether  such  as  the 
maiden  approved.  But  it  was  plain  now,  that  Dr. 
( Jilbert's  evidence,  so  clearly  stated,  had  made  a  deep 
impression  on  his  mind.  He  turned  to  Amy,  as 
the  doctor  closed  his  remarks,  and  spoke  to  her  very 
earnestly  for  a  few  moments.  The  effect  was  strik- 
ing. Her  face  lighted  up  gradually  until  it  was  as 
if  a  sunbeam  hud  fallen  over  it,  while  her  beautiful 
eyes  became  almost  radiant. 

"  For  one,"  said  Mr.  Stunnard,  the  first  to  break 
the  silence  that  followed,  turning  to  Dr.  Gilbert  as 
he  spoke,  "  I  must  express  my  thanks  for  the  clear 
explanation  you  have  given  us  of  the  physical  effects 
of  alcohol.  We,  the  people,  need  instruction  on 
this  subject.  It  is  because  of  our  lack  of  reliable 
information  here,  that  HO  muny  go  on  impairing 
health,  and  laying  the  foundation  of  incurable 

303 


354  STRONG  DRINK; 

diseases.  If  this  were  all ;  if  the  use  of  a  substance 
so  destructive  to  the  body  did  not  lead,  as  you  have 
just  intimated,  to  other  and  more  appalling  disas- 
ters. Among  these,  you  have  referred  to  insanity. 
Ah !  if  there  were  nothing  else,  this  would  be  bad 
enough.  But  among  the  evils  that  it  inflicts  on  our 
race,  insanity,  I  had  almost  said,  is  among  the  light- 
est. Of  its  agency  in  making  criminals,  Judge 
Arbuckle  is,  perhaps,  as  well  informed  as  any  one 
present." 

The  judge,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  eyes 
bent  to  the  floor,  almost  started  at  the  mention  of 
his  name,  his  absence  of  thought  had  been  so  great. 

"What  vere  you  saying?"  he  asked,  glancing 
towards  Mr.  Stannard. 

"Only  that  you  were  probably  better  informed 
than  any  one  present  as  to  the  direct  agency  of  al- 
cohol in  making  criminals." 

"There  is  no  gainsaying  the  fact,"  replied  the 
judge,  with  much  gravity  of  manner,  "  that  a  very 
large  number  of  the  crimes  for  which  men  are  tried 
and  punished,  have  their  origin,  or  secondary  ex- 
citing cause  in  liquor-drinking." 

"  Statistics,"  remarked  Mr.  Granger,  "  tell  a  sad 
story  as  to  the  crime,  destitution,  suffering  and  pau- 
perism which  spring  from  this  one  source.  The 
figures  are  indeed  startling.  I  have  looked  at  the 
hundreds  of  poor  wretched  creatures  who  gathered 
nightly  at  our  meeting  on  Broad  Street,  and  read 
in  their  faces  the  sad  story  of  their  fall  and  degra- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  355 

dation;  my  thought  has  gone  to  the  homes  made 
desolate ;  to  the  broken-hearted  wives  and  mothers ; 
to  the  abused  and  neglected  children,  that  must  be 
counted  in  as  a  part  of  the  ruin  involved  in  what  I 
saw  before  me.  At  a  single  glance,  I  have  taken  in  as 
many  as  from  three  to  five  hundred  of  these  wretched 
1  »eiiigs,  with  faces  and  forms  so  marred  and  disfigured 
that  it  made  my  heart  ache  to  look  at  them ;  and  for 
every  individual  I  saw  before  me,  somewhere,  away 
out  of  sight  and  observation,  were  from  one  to  half 
a  score  of  wronged  and  suffering  ones,  who,  but  for 
the  debasement  of  these  men,  might  have  been 
living  in  comfort  and  happiness.  This  is  the 
thought  that  intensifies  our  pity  and  stirs  our  com- 
passion when  we  look  at  even  a  single  one  of  these 
wrecks  of  humanity. 

"  But  when  we  begin  to  aggregate  these  human 
disasters,  the  result  becomes  appalling.  We  take 
an  isulated  home.  It  is  the  dwelling-place  of  sweet 
content.  But  the  demon  of  drink  comes  in,  and 
beauty  fades,  and  peace  retires,  and  sorrow,  and 
pain,  and  unutterable  woe  take  up  their  abode  in 
the  desolate  habitation ;  or  it  is  thrown  down  and 
utterly  destroyed.  How  sad  we  grow  over  a  single 
case  like  this,  when  it  comes  clearly  before  us. 
What,  then,  is  the  fearful  aggregate?  Statistics 
place  the  great  army  of  drunkards  in  this  country 
at  six  hundred  thousand!  It  may  be  more,  it  may 
be  less.  Do  we  place  the  average  too  great  when  we 
that,  for  every  one  of  the^e,  live  persons  are 


356  STRONG  DRINK; 

hurt  in  some  way — fathers,  mothers,  wives,  children, 
sisters,  brothers  or  dependents  ?  Three  millions  of 
persons  involved  in  the  debasement  and  ruin  of 
these  six  hundred  thousand !  What  an  awful  ag- 
gregate, when  we  comprehend  just  what  this  debase- 
ment and  ruin  means  and  involves !  Then  statistics 
tell  us  that,  from  two  to  three  hundred  thousand 
children  are  yearly  deserted,  or  orphaned,  and  sent 
to  poor-houses,  or  bequeathed  to  private  and  public 
charities,  in  consequence  of  intemperance;  to  say 
nothing  of  the  little  ones  who  perish  from  neglect 
and  cruelty.  Of  the  crimes  committed,  our  news- 
papers and  our  police,  our  courts  and  prison  records 
make  perpetual  advertisement,  until  the  awful  facts 
become  so  familiar  that  the  public  grow  hardened 
and  almost  indifferent.  In  a  single  year,  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  according  to  one  of  the  reports 
of  the  Prison  Association,  not  less  than  from  sixty 
to  seventy  thousand  persons,  men,  women  and 
children,  were  committed  to  the  jails  of  that  com- 
monwealth, and  seven-eighths  of  these  commitments, 
according  to  the  estimates  of  the  prison -keepers, 
were  due  either  directly  or  indirectly  to  the  use  of 
intoxicating  liquors.  The  estimates  of  leading  tem- 
perance writers  as  to  the  number  of  men  and  women 
who  are  yearly  sent  to  prison  in  consequence  of 
using  strong  drink,  give  the  figures  at  one  hundred 
thousand ;  but  taking  the  returns  of  New  York  as 
a  basis  of  calculation,  and  they  swell  to  more 
startling  numbers. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'llK.  3,57 

"The  mortality  of  drunkenness  is  another  a.- 
of  the  case  fearful  to  contemplate.  Sixty  thousand 
are  said  to  die  annually  in  this  country  from  the 
•t  effects  of  inebriety;  and  where  epidemics 
attack  a  community,  the  intemperate,  and  those  who 
use  alcoholic  drinks  regularly,  are  the  first  to  yield 
to  their  malign  influences.  A  remarkable  instance 
of  this  is  given  in  a  letter  written  to  the  Boston 
Jf'flical  Journal,  in  1853,  by  Dr.  Carnwright,  of 
X«  \v  Orleans.  The  yellow  fever,  he  said,  came  down 
like  a  storm  on  the  devoted  city,  sweeping  off  five 
thousand  intemperate  men,  before,  so  far  as  he  was 
able  to  get  at  the  facts,  a  single  sober  man  was 
t<  inched  by  the  epidemic.  A  Liverpool  coroner 
made  public  declaration,  that  gin  caused  him  to 
hold  annually  a  thousand  more  inquests  than  would 
otherwise  have  been  the  case;  and  he  said,  farther, 
that  he  had  seen,  since  holding  the  office  of  coroner, 
so  many  murders  by  poison,  by  drowning,  by  hang- 
ing and  hy  cutting  the  throat,  in  consequence  of 
drinking  ardent  spirits,  that  he  was  astonished  that 
the  legislature  did  not  interfere  to  stop  the  sale  of 
intoxicating  liquor.  It  was  his  belief,  that  from  ten 
to  fifteen  thousand  persons  died  annually  in  that 
metropolis  from  the  effects  of  gin-drinking. 

"  Looking  beyond  the  questions  of  health,  mor- 
tality and  personal  suffering  involved  in  the  use  of 
intoxicants,  the  loss  to  the  whole  people  in  material 
prosperity  is  something  startling.  If,  as  has  bren 
established  over  and  lin  by  the  testimony  of 


358  STRONG  DRINK; 

judges,  grand  juries  and  prison-keepers,  from  sixty 
to  eighty  per  cent,  of  the  heavy  cost  of  maintaining 
courts,  prisons  and  almshouses,  is  due  to  the  crime 
and  pauperism  engendered  by  drinking,  we  have  in 
this  item  alone  a  vast  drain  upon  the  productive 
industry  of  the  country.  What  this  drain  is  may 
be  seen  from  a  single  fact.  In  Ulster  County,  New 
York,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  ascertain  from 
reliable  sources,  the  percentage  on  every  dollar  of 
tax  paid  to  the  county  which  was  required  for  the 
support  of  her  paupers,  and  the  prosecution  and 
maintainance  of  her  criminals;  and,  after  careful 
examination,  it  was  announced,  that  on  every  dollar 
of  tax  paid,  sixty-three  cents  was  the  penalty  ex- 
acted from  the  people  for  permitting  the  liquor 
traffic  to  be  carried  on  in  that  county.  But  this  is 
only  a  single  item.  The  loss  in  productive  labor 
suffered  through  the  voluntary  or  enforced  idleness 
of  six  or  seven  hundred  thousand  drunken  men, 
paupers  and  criminals,  to  say  nothing  of  the  reduced 
power  of  work  and  production  that  inevitably  attends 
moderate  drinking,  as  it  is  called,  adds  an  additional 
drawback  to  the  general  prosperity.  There  is  yet 
another  view  of  this  case.  Hundreds  of  thousands 
of  bushels  of  grain,  instead  of  going  to  feed  the 
people,  are  annually  used  for  the  production  of  bev- 
erages which  injure  the  health  of  all  who  drink 
them,  and  create  an  army  of  paupers  and  criminals. 
The  amount  paid  for  these  beverages  by  those  who 
drink  them,  is  from  eight  hundred  to  a  thousand 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  359 

millions  of  dollars  every  year,  or  more  than  the 
value  of  all  the  flour,  cotton  goods,  boots  and  shoes, 
woolen  goods,  clothing,  books  and  newspapers  pro- 
duced in  the  whole  country.  A  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,  can  hardly 
be  called,  in  all  things,  a  wise  government,  so  long 
as  it  fosters  and  protects,  by  legal  enactment,  and 
draws  a  part  of  its  revenue,  from  a  traffic  like  this, 
which  offers  no  good  to  the  people,  but  mars  their 
industry,  corrupts  their  politics,  and  sows  crime, 
pauperism,  disease  and  death  broadcast  over  the 
land.  Is  it  not  time  that  the  citizens  of  this  great 
nation  called  a  halt  ;  and  time  that  every  man  who 
holds  in  regard  the  well-being  of  his  neighbor,  and 
the  happiness  and  safety  of  his  children,  should 
come  out  from  among  the  friends  of  so  monstrous 
an  evil,  and  set  himself  resolutely  to  the  work  of 
its  repression?" 

"The  work  of  repression  is  a  very  slow  and 
halting  work,"  came  in  the  clear,  calm  voice  of  a 
woman,  and  I  turned  towards  Mrs.  K  -  ,  who  had 
U  (  n  silent  up  to  this  time.  Judge  Arbuckle,  who 
had  been  listening  with  a  grave,  judicial  attention 
to  Mr.  Granger,  almost  started  at  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  and  looked  at  her  with  a  lifting  of  his  eye- 
brows, and  awakened  surprise  on  his  countenam  r. 
"  Its  progress,  if  there  be  really  any  progress  at  all, 
except  in  one  or  two  exceptional  States,"  she  went  on, 
"ia  so  slow  as  to  be  utterly  disheartening,  1 


noiuj  of  the  t'il'ortd  which  are  being  made  to 


360  STRONG  DRINK; 

restrict  the  traffic  and  warn  the  people  against  the 
use  of  a  substance  which  yields  no  single  benefit, 
but  curses  with  unutterable  woes  every  one  on  whom 
its  blight  falls — they  all  have  their  measure  of  good 
— but,  while  we  wait  for  the  agencies  of  repression, 
thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands  are  perishing 
around  us.  Shall  we  stand  off  and  see  these  wretched 
men  and  women  so  perish  while  we  seek  to  influence 
legislation,  and  wait  for  a  new  public  sentiment  that 
shall  lessen  the  evil  in  some  far-off  time  to  come  ? 
Shall  a  man,  whom  an  effort  on  my  part  might  save, 
die  at  my  door,  and  I  be  guiltless  ?" 

"  There  are  many  agencies  of  reform  and  means 
of  rescue  in  active  operation,  as  you  are  well  aware1, 

Mrs.  K ,"  said  Mr.  Stannard.  "  Our  inebriate 

asylums  and  reformatory  homes  are  saving  a  large 
number  of  men.'* 

"  For  every  man  that  is  so  saved,  I  thank  God, 
and  bless  the  agency  that  saved  him,"  was  answered. 
"  But  what  impression  can  less  than  a  score  of  such 
institutions,  scattered  here  and  there  over  the  land, 
excellent  as  they  are,  make  upon  the  six  hundred 
thousand  drunkards  Mr.  Granger  has  just  told  us 
about  ?  Are  these  to  be  left  to  perish,  while  we  are 
trying  to  establish  more  asylums  for  their  treatment 
and  cure  ?  There  must  be  quicker,  readier  and  less 
costly  means  for  more  than  four  out  of  five  of  these 
six  hundred  thousand,  or  they  are  lost  forever." 

"  You,  and  the  noble  women  who  are  at  work 
with  you  in  the  cause  of  reform  and  restoration, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

an-  giving  us,  I  trust,  a  solution  of  this  great 
problem." 

"  God  is  giving  the  solution,"  replied  Mrs.  K , 

in  a  low,  subdued  voice.  "  In  our  blindness  we  went 
lim,  and  He  showed  us  the  way.  "We  called 
upon  Him  in  our  weakness  and  our  despair,  and  He 
heard  and  answered  us." 

Mrs.  K spoke  with  a  confidence  of  manner 

that  brought  a  look  of  wonder  to  the  face  of  Judge 
Arbuckle,  and  caused  him  to  lean  a  little  forward  in 
his  chair. 

"  You  men  may  continue  to  fight  this  foe  6f  intem- 
perance with  carnal  aids  to  warfare,  if  you  will,  but 
we  have  found  in  the  Sword  of  the  Spirit  the  most 
eilertive  weapon  that  we  can  use  against  him,"  Mrs. 

K continued,  a  soft  smile  just  touching  her 

lips,  to  show  that  she  did  not  mean  any  discourtesy 
by  her  form  of  speech. 

"  \Vhat  do  you  mean  by  the  Sword  of  the 
Spirit,  madam?"  asked  the  judge,  as  he  leaned 
towards  Mrs.  K ,  and  looked  at  her  still  curi- 
ously. 

"  Prayer  and  faith,"  she  replied. 

"  Oh  !  I  see,"  he  returned,  with  a  slight  betrayal 
of  amused  incredulity  in  his  voice.  "Prayer  and 
faith  are  used  as  a  kind  of  exorcism  by  which  the 
devil  of  drink  is  cast  out." 

"If  you  choose  to  put  it  in  that  form,  judge,"  the 
lady  answered,  with  a  smile  still  lingering  on  her 
gentle  lips. 


362  STRONG  DRINK f 

"  And  you  really  believe,  madam,  that  prayer  will 
make  a  drunken  man  sober  ?" 

"  No,  I  do  not  believe  anything  of  the  kind." 

"What  then?"  asked  the  judge. 

"I  believe  that  God  will  do  it  in  answer  to 
prayers." 

"  In  answer  to  your  prayer  ?" 

"If,"  asked  Mrs.  K ,  "there  lived  in  my 

neighborhood  a  man  who  had  become  miserably 
drunken;  who  wasted  his  earnings  in  liquor,  and 
neglected  and  abused  his  wife  and  children ;  and  I, 
pitying  his  state,  and  earnestly  desiring  to  save  him, 
should  go  to  the  Lord  and  present  his  case,  and 
pray  that  His  Holy  Spirit  might  strike  conviction 
to  his  soul,  and  give  him  not  only  to  see  the  dreadful 
sin  he  was  committing,  but  lead  him  to  repentance ; 
and  suppose  that,  after  I  had  so  presented  him  to 
the  Lord,  for  a  single  time,  or  for  many  times,  he 
should  repent,  and  turn  from  his  evil  course,  and 
be  gathered  into  the  fold  of  Christ,  what  would  you 
say?" 

"  Have  you  ever  known  such  a  case  ?"  asked  the 
judge. 

"  Yes ;  and  not  only  one,  but  many,  each,  of 
course,  with  its  peculiar  aspects  and  incidents,  but 
all  quite  as  remarkable  as  the  one  I  have  given." 

"  There  is  something  more  in  this  than  appears 
on  the  surface,"  remarked  the  judge.  "  I  do  not 
believe  that  God  was  waiting  for  your  prayers  before 
He  would  lead  the  man  of  whom  you  speak  to 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

repentance  and  reformation  of  life.  -What  is  your 
view  of  the  case?" 

"  I  know,"  replied  Mrs.  K ,  "  that  all  things 

are  promised  to  those  who  pray,  believing ;  and  I 
know,  that  after  I  had  prayed,  in  the  case  I  have 
instanced,  and  in  many  other  such  cases,  God  has 
brought  conviction  and  repentance.  Just  how  it 
was  all  done,  I  do  not  pretend  to  know.  I  am  not 
so  much  interested  in  the  philosophy  of  this  salva- 
tion as  in  the  glorious  fact  And  I  am  not  alone, 
Judge  Arbuckle,  in  my  experiences.  Hundred^  of 
pious  women  in  this  city,  and  thousands  more  all 
over  the  land,  are  saving  poor  drunkards  by  scores 
and  hundreds  through  the  power  of  faith  and 
prayer.  If  you  could  be  with  us  in  our  daily 
meetings,  and  see  the  men  whom  we  are  rescuing, 
and  hear  them  speak  of  the  power  of  Divine  grace 
in  setting  them  free  from  the  slavery  of  appetite, 
your  heart  would  be  so  stirred  within  you  that  you 
would  accept  the  fact  of  the  value  of  prayer,  and  leave 
the  philosophy  to  be  discussed  and  settled  hereafter." 

"If  you  can  lead  a  man  to  pray  for  himself,  and 
he  then  gain,  through  prayer  and  intercession,  the 
power  to  resist  and  control  his  appetite,  I  can  see  a 
clear  relation  between  cause  and  effect,"  said  the 
judge.  "  He  comes  voluntarily  into  a  new  attitude 
towards  the  Lord,  who  can  now  give  him  grace  and 
strength,  because  he  is  ready  to  receive  it.  But 
how  the  prayer  in  which  he  IKLS  no  part  can  have 
any  avail,  passes  my  comprehension." 


364  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  We  who  are  in  the  midst  of  this  great  Gospel 
temperance  work  are  so  crowded  with  surprising 
instances  of  the  effect  of  our  prayers  for  others- 
even  for  men  and  women  whom  we  have  not  seen, 
whose  names  often  we  do  not  know,  nor  sometimes 
their  places  of  abode — that  doubt  is  no  longer  possi- 
ble," Mrs.  K replied.  "And  when,  at  our 

daily  afternoon  prayer  and  experience  meetings,  we 
make  requests  of  God  for  those  who  ask  for  our  in- 
tercession in  their  behalf,  we  do  it  in  full  confidence 
that  we  shall  be  heard  and  answered,  though  noth- 
ing of  the  result  should,  in  many  cases,  ever  come 
to  our  knowledge." 

The  deep  calmness  of  a  settled  conviction  was  seen 
in  the  countenance  of  Mrs.  K ,  as  she  spoke. 

"  We  know  so  little  of  the  spiritual  world  that 
lies  in  and  around  us,"  said  Mr.  Stannard,  at  this 
point  of  the  conversation,  "  and  of  the  laws  which 
govern  therein,  that  we  must  not  be  surprised  if  some 
of  its  phenomena  are  found  difficult  of  explanation. 
We  cannot,  knowing  as  we  do,  that  God  is  infinite 
and  essential  love,  and  that  His  compassion  is  so 
great  that  our  compassion  in  its  tenderest  move- 
ments bears  no  ratio  to  it  whatever,  believe  that  He 
withholds  His  saving  power  from  any  sin-sick  and 
perishing  soul  until  we  ask  Him  to  be  gracious. 
But  rather  that,  in  our  prayers  for  and  thought  of 
the  individual  for  whom  we  pray,  spiritual  forces  or 
influences,  whose  action  is  above  the  region  of  our 
knowledge,  are  set  in  motion,  as  the  atmospheres 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

are  set  in  motion  by  the  concussions  we  call  sound, 
and  so  thought  and  feeling  be  stirred  and  acted 
ujon,  and  he  for  whom  we  pray  be  led  to  turn  to 
the  Lord,  whose  ears  are  always  open  to  His  chil- 
dren's cry  for  help,  and  whose  hands  are  always 
stretched  out  to  save." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,"  remarked  Mrs.  K ,  "  I 

am  not  wise  enough  to  say  whether  Mr.  Stannard's 
view  be  right  or  wrong ;  but  this  I  know,  wonder- 
ful results  follow  the  prayers  we  offer  to  God,  and 
nu'ii  whom  we  are  asked  to  pray  for  to-day — 
drunken,  debased  and  evil  men ;  husbands,  sons, 
brothers,  for  whom  our  prayers  are  asked  by  wives, 
mothers  and  sisters — often,  within  a  day  or  a  week, 
present  themselves  at  our  meetings,  or  at  other 
places  where  Gospel  meetings  are  held,  and  sign  the 
pledge,  and  give  their  hearts  to  Christ.  And  so 
long  as  we  women  see  these  results,  we  should  con- 
tinue to  pray  mightily  to  God." 

A  few  moments  of  thoughtful  silence,  and  then 

Mr.  Stannard  said,  addressing  Mrs.  K :  "I 

know  all  about  what  you  are  doing  in  this  city,  and 
the  great  success  of  your  work;  and  I  see  in  the 
ni/.ation  of  a  kindred  work  in  every  city,  town 
and  neighborhood  all  over  our  country,  the  largest 
and  most  eiil ctive  agency  of  temperance  reform  ever 
known  in  our  liquor-cursed  land.  My  only  fear  is, 
that  yon  may  depend  so  completely  on  prayer,  and 
faith,  and  Divine  grace,  in  the  work  of  saving 
drunkards,  that  you  will  fail  to  use  the  natural 


366  STRONG  DRINK; 

means  of  reform  and  restoration  that  are  as  essential 
to  permanent  cure  as  the  others." 

"A  woman's  instincts  are  swift  and  true,  Mr. 
Stannard,"  was  the  reply.  "  We  know  that  a  man, 
with  hunger  gnawing  at  his  stomach,  is  in  a  poor 
condition  for  effective  praying ;  that  if  he  be  home- 
less and  idle,  he  is  especially  exposed  to  temptation, 
and  the  feeble  spiritual  life  he  may  have  found  will 
be  almost  sure  of  extinguishment  in  its  foul  breath. 
We  know  that  health  must  come  back  to  the  body, 
and  its  orderly  life  be  restored,  if  we  would  keep 
down  the  old  craving  desire,  and  give  to  spiritual 
forces  an  unobstructed  sphere  of  action.  While  we 
believe  in  prayer,  and  the  grace  of  God,  and  a 
change  of  heart,  we  believe  also  in  the  saving  power 
of  natural  and  physical  health,  and  order  as  well. 
The  man  to  be  truly  saved  must  be  saved  within 
and  without.  But,  with  God's  grace  in  his  heart, 
he  will  find  the  work  of  keeping  his  outer  life  in 
order  a  far  easier  task  than  if  he  tried  to  do  it  in 
his  own  strength.  And  herein  it  is  that  our  work 
is  meeting  with  such  large  success.  We  point  the 
poor,  exhausted  inebriate,  who  comes  to  us  in  his 
rags  and  defilements,  to  Him  who  is  able  to  save, 
and  urge  him  to  cast  himself  upon  His  love  and 
mercy.  To  make  new  resolves  and  new  pledges; 
but  with  this  difference  from  the  old  resolves  and 
pledges,  that  now  prayer  is  added  to  the  new  reso- 
lutions, and  spiritual  strength  asked  humbly  and 
trustingly  from  God.  We  take  him  to  the  church- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl'Ili:.  3(57 

door,  and  invite  him  to  enter  and  cast  in  his  lot 
with  religious  people ;  helping  him  to  form  a  new 
nal,  as  well  as  a  new  internal  life.  He  is 
thus  removed  from  old,  debasing  associations,  and 
brought  into  fellowship  with  pious  people,  who  take 
him  by  the  hand,  and  if  he  have  any  ability  for 
( 'hristian  work,  find  him  something  to  do  in  the 
Sunday-school,  in  the  prayer-meetings,  in  the  tem- 
perance work  of  his  neighborhood,  or  in  anything 
else  that  is  good  and  useful." 

"And  this  is  what  you  mean  by  Gospel  temper- 
.''  said  Judge  Arbuckle,  his  fine  face  lighting 
up  beautifully. 

"  It  is  one  of  its  phases,"  answered  Mrs.  K . 

"And  the  best  and  most  promising  phase,  I'll 
warrant  you,"  returned  the  judge,  with  rising  en- 
thusiasm. "  Why  this  is  church  work !  I'm  a  good 
churchman,  you  see,  madam ;  and  believe,  with  our 
excellent  bishop,  that  all  saving  reforms  should 
originate  in,  and  be  fostered  and  carried  on  by,  the 
church." 

"  What  if  the  church,  in  its  organized  form, 
neglects,  or  wholly  ignores  temperance  work — even 
Gospel  temperance  work — what  then?  Shall  we 
wait  for  the  church  and  let  the  poor  drunkard  perish 
because  she  neglects  her  duty  ?" 

"  God  forbid !"  responded  the  judge.  "  There  is 
no  monopoly  in  the  work  of  lifting  up  fallen  hu- 
manity." 

"  Nor  in  soul-saving,"  said  Mr.  Stunnanl.     "  But 


368  STRONG  DRINK; 

this  drift  which  the  subject  has  taken,  brings  us  face 
to  face  with  the  church  and  its  great  responsibilities. 
It  has  something  more  to  do  than  the  provision  of 
a  Sunday  service  for  the  people.  The  preaching  of 
the  Gospel  is  one  thing,  and  the  doing  of  Gospel 
work  another.  The  building  of  stately  church  edi- 
fices, with  costly  finish  and  exquisite  ornamenta- 
tion, into  which  so  much  of  the  pecuniary  means  of 
a  congregation  are  absorbed,  as  to  leave  it  too  often 
with  a  sense  of  poverty  and  an  excuse  for  drawing 
the  purse-strings  more  closely,  when  suffering  or 
destitute  humanity  stretches  forth  its  pleading  hands, 
may  be  all  well  enough ;  but  worship  in  a  less 
expensive  and  ostentatious  building,  and  a  more 
Christ-like  concern  for  the  sick  and  perishing  souls 
that  lie  helpless,  it  may  be,  within  the  sound  of  its 
choir  and  organ,  would,  I  think,  be  far  better  and 
more  acceptable  to  God." 

"You  do  not  approve,  then,  of  the  splendid 
churches  and  grand  cathedrals  which,  in  all  Chris- 
tian countries,  have  been  erected  to  the  honor  of 
God  and  dedicated  to  His  worship?"  said  Judge 
Arbuckle. 

"  Not  if  they  are  built  and  maintained  at  the  cost 
of  human  souls." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  reach  your  meaning,  Mr. 
Stannard." 

"  Let  me  give  an  illustration.  We  will  take  the 
case  of  a  congregation  which  has  built  for  itself  a 
splendid  marble  or  brown-stone  church  at  a  cost  of 


THE  CURSE  A3D  THE  CTA//.  3(J<J 

one,  or  two,  or  three  hundred  thousand  dollars,  into 
which  the  people  come  twice  every  Sunday  to  hear 
the  service  and  preaching,  and  once  or  twice  a  week 
for  evening  prayers  or  a  lecture.  This  elegant 
structure  is  an  ornament  to  the  neighborhood,  and 
the  people  who  have  built  it  feel  proud  of  their  fine 
edifice,  and  not  a  few  of  them  contrast  it,  a  little 
dt  preciatively,  it  may  be,  with  the  achievements  of 
certain  sister  churches  in  the  same  line,  and  take 
credit  to  themselves  for  having  thrown  these  just  a 
trifle  into  shadow.  Now,  as  to  the  spiritual  value 
of  all  this — and  no  good  is  gained  in  any  church 
work  unless  it  be  a  spiritual  good — there  may  be 
serious  doubts.  Has  the  creation  of  a  grand  temple 
for  the  worship  of  God  wrought  in  the  minds  of 
those  by  whom  it  was  erected  that  state  of  receptive 
humility  which  is  the  dwelling-place  of  Him  who 
says,  '  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart  ?'  Are  they 
1  nimble,  more  teachable,  more  self-deny  ing,  more 
M  ! i-ibrgetting,  more  given  to  good  works  than 
before?  What  if,  like  a  wise  corporation,  one  of 
these  congregations  had  invested  in  their  land, 
building  arid  required  church  machinery,  just  one- 
half  of  the  sum  they  had  in  possession,  and  reserved 
the  other  half  for  working  capital  ?  Don't  you  see 
how  differently  the  case  would  stand  ?  Here  is  a 
church  that  cost  two  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
,  if  it  had  cost  but  one  hundred  thousand ;  and 
a  building  just  as  large  and  just  as  comfortable  could 
have  been  erected  for  that  sum — all  the  excess  is 
24 


370  STRONG  DRIXK; 

but  imposing  display  and  ornamentation — that  con- 
gregation could  have  established  and  maintained, 
with  the  other  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  a 
reformatory  home  for  inebriates,  like  the  Franklin 
Home  of  our  city,  and  been  the  means  of  saving 
from  fifty  to  a  hundred  fallen  men  every  year.  Or, 
it  could  have  placed  in  the  hands  of  its  pious 
women,  who,  like  Mrs.  K and  her  sister  work- 
ers in  this  Gospel  temperance  movement,  which  has 
already  wrought  such  marvelous  results,  the  money 
required  to  give  healthy  food,  and  sightly  clothing, 
and  safer  and  better  surroundings  to  the  poor, 
nerveless,  appetite-cursed  men  they  are  seeking  to 
save.  I  instance  but  these ;  there  are  many  other 
ways  in  which  the  reserved  working  capital  of  this 
church  might  be  used  for  the  good  of  souls.  Think! 
How  would  it  be  if  our  blessed  Lord  were  to  stand 
some  day  in  the  midst  of  that  congregation  ?  Would 
they  hear  from  His  lips,  as  His  eyes  took  in  the  rich- 
ness and  grandeur  of  the  temple  they  had  built  to 
His  honor,  and  then,  penetrating  its  stately  walls, 
went  searching  among  the  poor,  desolate  homes,  and 
wretched  hovels,  and  dens  of  vice  and  crime  that 
lay  in  the  very  shadow  of  its  beauty,  and  saw  His 
lost  sheep  perishing  there,  with  none  to  pity  or  to 
succor — would  they  hear  from  his  lips  the  words, 
'Well  done?'  I  fear  not" 

"  You  have  struck  the  key-note  of  the  great  ques- 
tion that  lies  at  our  door  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  K , 

speaking  with  a  rising  earnestness  of  manner.    "Are 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  37} 

the  churches,  established  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  to 
remain  content  with  one  or  two  Sunday  services, 
and  a  week-night  prayer-meeting  or  lecture,  main- 
tained, in  many  cases,  at  an  expense  of  from  five  to 
fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year  ?  Can  you  find  in  any 
i iii-re  secular  calling  so  large  an  investment  with 
such  meagre  returns?  The  theory  seems  to  be  that 
the  work  of  the  chuch,  as  a  body  of  Christian  men 
and  women,  is  limited  to  Sunday,  and  may  be  inter- 
mitted for  six  days." 

"  Let  us  be  careful  that  we  are  not  unjust,"  Mr. 
Stannard  replied.  "I  stated  my  case  strongly,  in 
( >n  ler  to  illustrate  my  views.  Many  of  our  churches 
are  active  in  good  works,  and  are  doing  much  for 
the  spiritually  destitute.  They  have  their  mission 
si  1  tools,  and  visiting  committees,  and  laborers  among 
the  j>oor ;  but  with  most  of  them  their  usefulness  is 
restricted  for  lack  of  means.  It  takes  so  much  to 
maintain  Sunday  worship  that  but  little  is  left  for 
anything  else." 

"  To  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.  It  was 

for  tliLs  that  Christ  came."  Mrs.  K spoke  in  a 

low,  earnest  voice.  "Ah !  if  our  churches  all  over 
the  land  would  give  themselves  to  this  seeking  and 
saving  of  the  lost — of  those  who  have  fallen  so  low 
that,  to  common  eyes,  their  case  is  hopelt  •->.  Would 
go  out  into  the  wilderness,  like  the  Good  Shepherd, 
seeking  for  and  bringing  back  the  lost  sheep.  These 
six  hundred  thousand  drunkards,  of  whom  over  a 
thousand  die  every  week;  what  hope  for  them  if 


372  ST&OSG  DRINK; 

the  church  comes  not  to  their  rescue  ? — for  the  church 
alone  can  lead  them  to  the  sure  refuge  of  Christ. 
The  world  knows  Him  not.  Only  in  a  few  cases  is 
a  human  hand  strong  enough  to  save.  If  the  larger 
number  be  not  led  to  take  hold  upon  Christ,  they 
must  perish  in  their  sin  and  degradation.  Think 
what  joy  there  would  be  in  Heaven,  if  all  the 
churches  in  the  land,  singly,  or  in  union  with  near 
sister  churches,  were  to  establish  Gospel  temperance 
meetings,  and  draw  into  them  these  six  hundred 
thousand  men  and  women — or  as  many  of  them  as 
felt  their  slavery  and  wretchedness  and  wished  to 
escape  therefrom.  The  very  thought  makes  my 
heart  stir  within  me." 

The  evening  had  worn  away,  the  hours  passing 
with  little  heed  from  any  of  us,  until  it  was  time 
to  separate.  The  judge  had  risen  to  his  feet, 

and  Mrs.  Arbuckle  and  Mrs.  K were  moving 

from  the  parlor  in  order  to  make  ready  for 
going  away,  when  Mr.  Granger,  who  had  been 
silent  for  most  of  the  time,  said,  in  a  voice  that 
at  once  gave  him  an  attentive  audience:  "I 
would  like,  before  we  part,  to  say  one  or  two 
things  that  have  come  crowding  into  my  mind  this 
evening.  All  good  work  is  from  the  Lord.  Every 
effort,  of  whatever  kind,  perfect  or  imperfect,  which 
has  for  its  end  the  saving  of  men  from  evils  and 
disorders,  has  in  it  a  heavenly  power  and  the 
approval  of  God ;  and  we  must,  therefore,  be 
careful  that,  while  we  magnify  the  means  of  salva- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  373 

ti<m,  which  to  us  seem  most  effective,  we  do  not 
depreciate  or  throw  hindrances  in  the  way  of  tho-e 
who  labor  in  different  fields,  and  with  methods 
different  from  our  own.  This  work  of  saving  the 
people  from  the  curse  of  drink,  in  which  we  are  all 
BO  deeply  interested,  has  many  aspects,  because  men 
differ  not  only  in  personal  character  and  tempera- 
ment, but  in  their  external  conditions  and  the  ways 
of  thinking  and  habits  of  life,  which  grow  out  of 
these  conditions.  The  influences  that  will  power- 
fully affect  one,  may  have  little  weight  with  another. 
Our  panacea,  in  which  we  have  such  an  abounding 
faith,  may  fail  in  many  cases  where  another  remedy 
would  work  a  cure ;  while  cases  of  failure  under  a 
diverse  treatment  from  ours  may  find  a  quick 
restoration  on  coming  into  our  hands.  Let  us,  then, 
be  watchful  over  ourselves  in  this  matter,  and  be 
readier  to  give  a  'God  speed*  to  methods  different, 
and,  it  may  be,  less  efficient  than  our  own,  than  to 
depreciate  them  by  comparison,  or  hurt  their  influ- 
ences by  direct  condemnation.  Whatever  tends,  in 
i-v.-n  the  smallest  degree,  to  abate  this  curse,  must  be 
recognized  as  good  work.  It  may  be  through  re- 
strictive laws,  or  bindingj)ledges,  or  social  organiza- 
tion, or  appeals  to  the  people  by  the  press  and  the 
platform,  or  the  opening  of  cheap  coffee  rooms.  It 
may  be  in  Christian  work  and  prayer,  and  direct 
spiritual  help  from  God  through  these  appointed 
means,  in  which  I  have  the  strongest  faith.  It  may 
be  in  the  establishment  of  inebriate  asylums  and 


374  STRONG  DRINK; 

reformatory  homes,  where,  while  seeking  to  cure  by 
medical,  sanitary,  moral  and  religious  means,  the 
pathology  of  drunkenness  is  carefully  studied,  and 
the  skill  and  wisdom  of  the  medical  profession 
brought  to  the  examination  and  cure  of  one  of  the 
most  fearful  diseases  which  man,  by  self-indulgence, 
has  brought  upon  himself;  involving  in  disorder,  as 
it  does,  his  physical,  moral  and  spiritual  nature. 
Tolerance  of  views  and  harmony  of  action  are  what 
we  need  in  this  work.  If  I  think  my  methods  are 
best,  let  me  pursue  them  with  all  zeal  and  confi- 
dence, doing  what  good  I  can ;  only  let  me  be 
careful  not  to  depreciate  my  brother's  methods,  of 
the  scope  and  value  of  which  I  may  know  far  less 
than  I  imagine." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Granger !"  came  with  a  hearty 

utterance  from  the  lips  of  Mrs.  K ,  who  had 

turned  back  into  the  parlor,  from  which  she  was 
passing  when  our  host  began  his  remarks.  "  You 
have  said  the  right  thing  in  the  right  way.  The 
temptation  to  magnify  our  own  particular  work, 
because  its  fruit  is  so  near  our  hands,  is  very  great. 
But,  apart  from  this ;  are  not  some  ways  of  doing  a 
thing  better  than  other  ways  ?  In  the  work  of  sal- 
vation, is  not  a  Divine  Hand  more  certain  to  save 
than  a  human  hand  ?" 

I  saw  a  light  break  suddenly  from  within  into 
Mr.  Granger's  face. 

"  If  we  can  lead  the  man,  in  whom  inebriation 
has  almost,  if  not  entirely,  destroyed  the  will-power, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CTA'F.  375 

to  Him  who  is  able  to  cure  him  of  all  diseases,  if 
he  will  accept  the  means  of  cure,"  continued  Mrs. 

K ,  "  may  we  not  hope  to  do  more  and  better 

f«»r  him  in  this  than  in  any  other  way?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  believe  it,  and  I  know  it,"  replied 
Mr.  Granger.  "  When  all  other  means  fail,  this 
May  be  held  as  sure ;  for  God's  strength,  if  we  take 
it  and  rest  upon  it,  never  fails." 

"  But,  after  all,"  spoke  out  Judge  Arbuckle,  "  is 
not  the  work  of  warning  and  prevention  better  than 
the  work  of  cure?  Of  all  that  I  have  heard  this 
evening,  and  much  of  it  has  been  deeply  interesting, 
nothing  has  impressed  me  like  the  evidence  brought 
by  Dr.  Gilbert  against  alcohol.  It  may  be  only 
imagination,"  and  he  smiled  a  little  dubiously  as  he 
said  it ;  "  but  I've  recognized  in  my  sensations  more 
than  half  a  dozen  symptoms  of  its  deleterious  effects 
since  he  described  its  action  on  the  tissues,  nerves 
and  organs  of  the  body."  He  stretched  his  arms 
upwards,  then  drew  them  down  again  slowly, 
pressed  one  hand  against  his  forehead,  and  then 
held  it  against  his  right  side. 

"  The  fact  is,"  going  on,  after  a  few  moments  of 
rclKrtivc  silence,  "I  have  an  unpleasant  impression 
that  I'm  not  quite  as  sound  as  I  thought  myself. 
This  torpidity  of  liver  is  something,  I'm  afraid,  more 
serious  than  1  had  supposed.  And  my  head,"  giving 
it  a  shake,  "  isn't  as  clear  as  it  ought  to  be.  Th 
often  a  hi-iivy,  confused  feeling  about  it  which  I 
don't  like.''  As  lie  stepped  out  to  move  across  the 


376  STRONG  DRINK; 

room,  I  saw  him  limp.  "One  of  my  knee-catchers 
again."  The  judge  made  a  slight  grimace. 

"A  diminished  supply  of  sinovial  fluid,"  remarked 
Dr.  Gilbert 

"One  of  the  effects  of  old  age,"  said  the 
judge. 

"Anticipated,  most  likely,  by  the  alcohol  in  your 
wine  and  brandy,"  returned  the  doctor.  "You 
know  that,  of  all  substances  taken  into  the  body, 
none  absorbs  water  like  alcohol,  and  that  its  first 
action  on  the  membranes  is  to  rob  them  of  as  much 
of  this  fluid  as  it  has  the  power  to  appropriate. 
That  more  or  less  torpor  and  stiffness  of  the  joints 
and  limbs  should  come  in  consequence  of  the  con- 
tinued use  of  this  substance  is  not  at  all  surprising ; 
nor  that  the  liver,  heart  and  brain,  and  some  of  the 
more  important  nerve  centres,  should  suffer  from 
disturbances  growing  out  of  unhealthy  structural 
changes." 

"  Not  at  all — not  at  all,"  answered  the  judge.  "The 
thing  stands  to  reason.  What  I  wish  to  say,  is,  that 
as  prevention  is  better  than  cure,  how  more  effect- 
ually can  the  cause  of  temperance  be  served,  than 
by  the  most  thorough  dissemination  of  the  truth  in 
regard  to  the  action  of  alcoholic  drinks  in  deterio- 
rating the  body  and  laying  the  foundation  for  painful 
and  too  often  fatal  diseases  ?  Why,  sir,  do  you  think 
that,  if  I  had  known  as  much  about  this  matter 
when  I  was  twenty-one  years  of  age,  as  I  do  now, 
that  I  would  have  joined  the  great  army  of  moderate 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  £77 

drinkers?  No,  sir!  It  was  because  I  believed, 
with  thousands  of  others,  that  these  enticing  bever- 
ages were  good  and  healthful,  when  not  taken  in 
excess,  that  I  used  them.  Now  I  see  that  there  is  a 
double  peril.  That,  besides  the  risk  of  becoming 
their  slave,  he  who  uses  them  is  surely  laying  the 
foundation  for  troublesome,  painful,  and,  often,  fatal 
diseases." 

"  It  is  in  consequence  of  the  physical  deteriora- 
tions wrought  by  alcohol  in  the  stomach  and  brain," 
said  the  doctor,  "that  appetite  increases,  and  the 
will  so  often  loses  power  over  it  For  this  reason,  no 
one  is  safe  who  drinks  at  all ;  for  a  double  disease — 
moral,  as  well  as  physical — is  almost  sure  to  be  the 
result;  and  this  is  the  hardest  to  cure  of  all  dis- 


eases." 


"And  yet  the  easiest,"  spoke  out  Mrs.  K ,  in 

her  clear,  sweet  voice,  "  if  one  will  only  come  to  the 
Great  Physician,  and  be  healed  by  the  touch  of  His 
hand." 

The  judge  let  his  gaze  rest,  for  a  moment  or  two, 
on  the  speaker's  calm  face  and  slightly  upturned 
eyes,  and  then,  as  he  withdrew  them,  said,  gravely : 
"  Pn -v« ntion  is  best,  my  friends.  Don't  forget  the 
boys  and  the  young  men,  while  you  are  trying  to 
the  unhappy  fallen.  Conservation  is  in  the 
line  of  true  order.  And,  remember,  that  it  will 
cost  less  of  time,  effort  and  money  to  keep  ten  from 
falling  than  to  lift  up  and  restore  one  who  is  down. 
Don't  forget  to  provide  safeguards  for  the  ninety- 


378  STRONG  DRINK; 

and-nine,  while  you  are  going  after  the  one  lost 
sheep." 

"  I  think,"  said  Dr.  Gilbert,  as  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  Judge  Arbuckle's  arm,  "  that  we  may  count 
you  as  upon  our  side  of  this  great  question." 

"  I  should  not  wonder  if  it  were  so,"  replied  the 
judge,  "  for  I  regard  the  argument,  so  far  as  pre- 
sented by  you,  as  complete ;  and,  until  I  am  satisfied 
that  you  are  in  error,  I  shall  take  no  more  risks. 
Too  much  of  comfort,  and  use  and  happiness  depend 
on  good  health,  to  put  it  lightly  in  jeopardy.  My 
wine  may  be  very  pleasant  and  exhilarating,  but  if 
there  be  really  poison  in  the  cup,  I  must,  as  a  wise 
and  prudent  man,  let  it  pass  untasted,  or  acknowl- 
edge myself  the  slave  of  an  appetite  that  will  have 
indulgence  at  any  cost." 

"And  you,  Henry?"  It  was  the  voice  of  Mr. 
Granger.  He  spoke  with  a  quiet  cheerfulness  that 
concealed  any  suspense  or  concern,  if  either  existed. 
Young  Pickering,  who  was  bending  towards  Miss 
Granger,  and  talking  to  her,  in  low  tones,  turned 
his  handsome  face  towards  the  speaker.  "  On 
which  side  of  this  question  shall  we  count  you  ?" 

"On  the  right  side,  of  course,"  said  Amy,  not 
waiting  for  her  lover's  reply,  a  happy  smile  rippling 
over  her  face  as  she  spoke.  His  answer  I  did  not 
hear ;  but  that  it  was  entirely  satisfactory,  I  had  the 
assurance  a  few  weeks  later,  when  the  fact  of  their 
engagement  became  known  to  the  friends  of  the 
family. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  379 

And  here  our  story  must  end,  if  so  meagre  a  plot 
and  so  light  a  thread  of  narrative  can.  be  called  a 
story.  Whatever  interest  has  been  felt  in  the  char- 
acters, must  give  place  now  to  the  profounder  con- 
victions we  have  sought  to  awaken.  In  the  curse 
and  cure  of  drunkenness  lie  problems,  to  the  solution 
of  which  we  must  bring  neither  prejudice,  nor  pas- 
sion, nor  partisan  feeling,  but  the  truth,  if  we  can 
but  find  it ;  and  in  all  questions  that  concern  man's 
moral  and  spiritual  life,  as  well  as  his  natural  and 
physical  condition,  we  shall  be  more  apt  to  find  the 
truth,  if  we  consider  the  action  of  moral  and  spiritual 
laws,  in  their  connection  with  the  effects  that  lie 
lower  and  more  on  the  plane  of  common  observa- 
tion, than  if  we  made  light  of  them,  or  ignored  them 
altogether. 

There  is  one  fundamental  doctrine  of  Christianity, 
without  which  all  the  rest  must  go  for  nothing. 
AVe  have  it  from  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  Himself: 
"  Ye  must  be  born  again."  Differ  as  we  may  about 
the  means  of  attaining  this  new  spiritual  birth,  all 
Christiana  agree  that  it  involves  an  inner  change 
tli rough  the  gift,  or  grace,  or  co-operative  agency  of 
the  Spirit  of  God,  by  which  man's  evil  nature,  with 
all  of  its  depraved  and  debasing  appetites,  is  either 
taken  wholly  away,  or  removed  from  the  centre  to 
the  circumference  of  his  life,  and  there  held  in 
complete  subjection.  There  is  no  condition  of  de- 
pravity or  wickedness  from  which  a  man  may  not 
.ve.l  in  this  new  birth;  and  there  is  no  power 


380  STRONG  DRINK; 

in  all  hell  strong  enough  to  bear  him  back  into  his 
old  evil  life,,  if  he  use  the  new  spiritual  strength  that 
has  been  born  in  him  from  above. 

On  this  fundamental  law  of  spiritual  life,  all  Chris- 
tian believers  stand ;  and  it  is  being  more  and  more 
widely  accepted  as  the  one  on  which  we  can  most 
surely  depend  in  our  efforts  to  save  men  from  the 
curse  of  drink.  It  is  on  this  conviction  that  what  is 
known  as  the  Gospel  temperance  movement  is  based ; 
a  movement  in  which  the  old,  tireless  workers  in  the 
great  cause  of  reform  find  new  hope  and  encourage- 
ment. Heretofore  the  churches  have  held  themselves, 
in  too  many  instances,  aloof  from  active  participation 
in  the  cause  of  temperance,  leaving  it  to  be  dealt  with 
by  legal  enactment,  or  moral  suasion.  But  now 
they  are  beginning  to  see  that  this  work  is  really 
their  work,  and  that  to  them  has  been  given  the 
special  means  for  its  prosecution.  In  most,  if  not 
all,  of  our  inebriate  asylums  and  homes  of  reforma- 
tion, the  value  of  spiritual  aid  is  fully  and  practi- 
cally recognized ;  and  in  some  of  the  larger  institu- 
tions they  have  their  chaplain  as  well  as  their 
physicians;  and  we  are  very  sure  that  where  the 
physician  of  the  body  and  the  physician  of  the  soul 
unite  in  their  efforts  to  cure  a  patient  who  is  sick  of 
an  infirmity  that  has  exhausted  his  body  and  en- 
slaved his  will,  his  case  is  far  more  hopeful  that  if 
he  were  left  in  the  care  of  either  alone. 

And  now,  what  need  to  write  another  sentence? 
We  cannot  make  clearer,  by  any  new  illustrations, 


TUB  CURSE  AXD  TUB  CURE. 

thi-:  leading  thought  of  our  story,  that  in  coming  to 
God  through  sincere  repentance  and  earnest  prayer, 
refraining,  at  the  same  time,  from  drink  and  all 
other  evils  of  life,  as  sins,  there  lies  for  the  inehriate 
a  road  to  reformation,  in  which  he  can  walk  safely, 
and  which  will  hear  him  farther  and  farther  from 
danger  with  every  step  he  takes  therein.  Some 
have  fallen  so  low — alasy  for  the  number! — that 
every  way  except  this  has  been  closed ;  but  all  will 
find  it  the  safest,  the  surest,  and  the  easiest  by  which 
to  reach  an  abiding  self-control. 


PART  II. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 


INTRODUCTION. 


"TTN  writing  the  second  part  of  this  book,  the  author  found 
1  himself  embarrassed  from  the  beginning,  because  of  the 
large  amount  of  material  which  came  into  his  hands,  and  the 
consequent  difficulty  of  selection  and  condensation.  There  is 
not  a  chapter  which  might  not  have  been  extended  to  twice  its 
present  length,  nor  a  fact  stated,  or  argument  used,  which 
iiii^ht  not  have  been  supplemented  by  many  equally  pertinent 
and  conclusive.  The  extent  to  which  alcohol  curses  the  whole 
people  cannot  be  shown  in  a  few  pages :  the  sad  and  terrible 
history  would  fill  hundreds  of  volumes.  And  the  same  may 
be  said  of  the  fprse  which  this  poisonous  substance  lays  upon 
the  souls  and  bodies  of  men.  Fearful  as  is  the  record  which 
will  IHJ  found  in  the  chapters  devoted  to  the  curse  of  drink,  lot 
the  reader  bear  in  mind  that  a  thousandth  part  has  not  been 
told. 

In  treating  of  the  means  of  reformation,  prevention  and 
cure,  our  effort  has  been  to  give  to  each  agency  the  largest  possi- 
ble credit  for  whnt  it  is  doing.  There  is  no  movement,  organi- 
zation or  work,  however  broad  or  limited  in  its  sphere,  which 
has  for  its  object  the  cure  of  drunkenness  in  the  individual,  or 
the  suppression  of  the  liquor  traffic  in  the  State,  that  is  not 
contributing  its  measure  of  service  to  the  great  cause  every 
true  t.  in],,  ranee  advocate  has  at  heart ;  and  what  we  largely 
need  is,  toleration  for  those  who  do  uot  sec  with  us,  nor  act 
with  us  in  our  special  methods.  Let  us  never  forget  the  Di- 
vine admonition — "  Forbid  him  not :  for  he  that  is  not  against 
us  is  for  us." 
385 


386  INTRODUCTION. 

Patience,  toleration  and  self-repression  are  of  vital  import- 
ance in  any  good  cause.  If  we  cannot  see  with  another,  let  us 
be  careful  that,  by  opposition,  we  do  not  cripple  him  in  his 
work.  If  we  can  assist  him  by  friendly  counsel  to  clearer 
seeing,  or,  by  a  careful  study  of  his  methods,  gain  a  large  effi- 
ciency for  our  own,  far  more  good  will  be  done  than  by  hard 
antagonism,  which  rarely  helps,  and  too  surely  blinds  and 
hinders. 

Our  book  treats  of  the  curse  and  cure  of  drunkenness.  How 
much  better  not  to  come  under  the  terrible  curse !  How  much 
better  to  run  no  risks  where  the  malady  is  so  disastrous,  and 
the  cure  so  difficult  I 

To  young  men  who  are  drifting  easily  into  the  dangerous 
drinking  habits  of  society,  we  earnestly  commend  the  chapters 
in  which  will  be  found  the  medical  testimony  against  alcohol, 
and  also  the  one  on  "  The  Growth  and  Power  of  Appetite." 
They  will  see  that  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  use  alcoholic 
drinks  regularly  without  laying  the  foundation  for  both  physi- 
cal and  mental  diseases,  and,  at  the  same  time,  lessening  his 
power  to  make  the  best  of  himself  in  his  life-^prk ;  while  be- 
yond this  lies  the  awful  risk  of  acquiring  an  appetite  which 
may  enslave,  degrade  and  ruin  him,  body  and  soul,  as  it  is  de- 
degrading  and  ruining  its  tens  of  thousands  yearly. 


CONTENTS  OF  PART  II. 


CHAPTER  L 
The  Curse  of  Strong  Drink, 389 

CHAPTER  II. 
It  Curses  the  Body, 399 

CHAPTER  III. 
It  Curses  the  Body — Continued,        ....        417 

^            CHAPTER  IV. 
trees  the  Soul, 431 

CHAPTER  V. 

Not  a  Food,  and  very  Limited  in  its  Range  as  a 

Medicine 451 

CHAPTER  VL 
The  Growth  and  Power  of  Appetite, ....        471 

CHAPTER  VIL 
Means  of  Cure, •        .        493 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Inebriate  Asylums, 503 


CONTENTS.  , 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Reformatory  Homes,          ......        527 

CHAPTER  X. 

Tobacco  as  an  Incitant  to  the  Use  of  Alcoholic  Stimu- 
lants, and  an  Obstacle  in  the  way  of  a  Perma- 
nent Reformation, 561 

.    CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Woman's  Crusade, 569 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Woman's  National  Christian  Temperance  Union,        583 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Reform  Clubs, 605 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Gospel  Temperance, 617 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Temperance  Coffee-Houses  and  Friendly  Inns,  .        .         630 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Temperance  Literature, 639 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
License  a  Failure  and  a  Disgrace,      ....        647 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Prohibition,  660 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  CURSE  OF  STRONG  DRINK. 

are  two  remarkable  passages  in  a  very 
old  book,  known  as  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon, 
which  cannot  be  read  too  often,  nor  pondered  too 
deeply.     Let  us  quote  them  here : 

1.  "Wine  is  a  mocker,  strong  drink  is  raging;  and 
whosoever  is  deceived  thereby  is  not  wise. 

2.  ""Who  hath  woe?  who  hath  sorrow?  who  hath 
contentions  ?  who  hath  babblings  ?  who  hath  wounds 
wii  hout  cause  ?  who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  They  that 
tarry  long  at  the  wine;  they  that  go  to  seek  mixed 
wine.     Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red, 
when  it  giveth  his  color  in  the  cup,  when  it  moveth 
itself  aright.     At  the  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent 
and  stingoth  like  an  adder." 

It  is  many  thousands  of  years  since  this  record 
w.as  made,  and  to-day,  as  in  that  far  distant  age  of 
the  world,  wine  is  a  mocker,  and  strong  drink  raging; 
and  still,  as  then,  they  who  tarry  long  at  the  wine; 
who  go  to  seek  mixed  wine,  discover  that,  "at  the. 
"  it  biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stiugeth  like  an 
adder. 

This  mocking  and  raging!     These  bitings  and 
These  woes  and  woundings I     Alas,  for 
3H9 


390  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  exceeding  bitter  cry  of  their  pain,  which  is 
heard  above  every  other  cry  of  sorrow  and  suffering. 

ALCOHOL  AN  ENEMY. 

The  curse  of  strong  drink!  Where  shall  we 
begin,  where  end,  or  how,  in  the  clear  and  truthful 
sentences  that  wrest  conviction  from  doubt,  make 
plain  the  allegations  we  shall  bring  against  an 
enemy  that  is  sowing  disease,  poverty,  crime  and 
sorrow  throughout  the  land  ? 

Among  our  most  intelligent,  respectable  and  in- 
fluential people,  this  enemy  finds  a  welcome  and  a 
place  of  honor.  Indeed,  with  many  he  is  regarded 
as  a  friend  and  treated  as  such.  Every  possible 
opportunity  is  given  him  to  gain  favor  in  the  house- 
hold and  with  intimate  and  valued  friends.  He  is 
given  the  amplest  confidence  and  the  largest  free- 
dom; and  he  always  repays  this  confidence  with 
treachery  and  spoliation;  too  often  blinding  and 
deceiving  his  victims  while  his  work  of  robbery  goes 
on.  He  is  not  only  a  robber,  but  a  cruel  master ; 
and  his  bondsmen  and  abject  slaves  are  to  be  found 
in  hundreds  and  thousands,  and  even  tens  of  thou- 
sands, of  our  homes,  from  the  poor  dwelling  of  the 
day-laborer,  up  to  the  palace  of  the  merchant-prince. 

PLACE  AND  POWER  IN  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

Of  this  fact  no  one  is  ignorant ;  and  yet,  strange 
to  tell,  large  numbers  of  our  most  intelligent,  re- 
spectable and  influential  people  continue  to  smile 
upon  this  enemy ;  to  give  him  place  and  power  in 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

their  households,  and  to  cherish  him  as  a  friend ; 
but  with  this  singular  reserve  of  thought  and  pur- 
pose, that  he  is  to  be  trusted  just  so  far  and  no  far- 
ther. He  is  so  pleasant  and  genial,  that,  for  the 
sake  of  his  favor,  they  are  ready  to  encounter  the 
risk  of  his  acquiring,  through  the  license  they  afford, 
tin-  vantage-ground  of  a  pitiless  enemy  ! 

But,  it  is  not  only  in  their  social  life  that  the 
people  hold  this  enemy  in  favorable  regard,  and 
give  him  the  opportunity  to  hurt  and  destroy.  Our 
great  Republic  has  entered  into  a  compact  with  him, 
and,  for  a  money-consideration,  given  him  the 

FREEDOM  OF  THE  NATION ; 

BO  that  he  can  go  up  and  down  the  land  at  will. 
And  not  only  has  our  great  Republic  done  this; 
but  the  States  of  which  it  is  composed,  with  only 
one  or  two  exceptions,  accord  to  him  the  same  free- 
duin.  Still  more  surprising,  in  almost  every  town 
and  city,  his  right  to  plunder,  degrade,  enslave  and 
destroy  the  people  has  been  established  under  the 
safe  guarantee  of  law. 

Let  us  give  ourselves  to  the  sober  consideration 
of  what  we  are  suffering  at  his  hands,  and  take 
measures  of  defense  and  safety,  instead  of  burying 
our  heads  in  the  sand,  like  the  foolish  ostrich,  while 
the  huntsmen  are  sweeping  down  upon  us. 

ENORMOUS  CONSUMPTION*. 

Only  those  who  have  given  the  subject  careful 
consideration  have  any  true  idea  of  the  enormous 


392  STRONG  J)RINK; 

annual  consumption,  in  this  country,  of  spirits, 
wines  and  malt  liquors.  Dr.  Hargreaves,  in  "  Our 
Wasted  Resources,"  gives  these  startling  figures : 
It  amounted  in  1870  to  72,425,353  gallons  of  do- 
mestic spirits,  188,527,120  gallons  of  fermented 
liquors,  1,441,747  gallons  of  imported  spirits, 
9,088,894  gallons  of  wines,  34,239  gallons  of  spirit- 
uous compounds,  and  1,012,754  gallons  of  ale,  beer, 
etc.,  or  a  total  of  272,530,107  gallons  for  1870,  with 
a  total  increase  of  30,000,000  gallons  in  1871,  and 
of  35,000,000  gallons  in  addition  in  1872. 

All  this  in  a  single  year,  and  at  a  cost  variously 
estimated  at  from  six  to  seven  hundred  millions  of 
dollars  I  Or,  a  sum,  as  statistics  tell  us,  nearly  equal 
to  the  cost  of  all  the  flour,  cotton  and  woolen  goods, 
boots  and  shoes,  clothing,  and  books  and  newspapers 
purchased  by  the  people  in  the  same  period  of  time. 

If  this  were  all  the  cost  ?  If  the  people  wasted 
no  more  than  seven  hundred  millions  of  dollars  on 
these  beverages  every  year,  the  question  of  their  use 
would  be  only  one  of  pecuniary  loss  or  gain.  But 
what  farther,  in  connection  with  this  subject,  are  we 
told  by  statistics?  Why,  that,  in  consequence  of 
using  these  beverages,  we  have  six  hundred  thou- 
sand drunkards;  and  that  of  these,  sixty  thousand 
die  every  year.  That  we  have  over  three  hundred 
murders  and  four  hundred  suicides.  That  over  two 
hundred  thousand  children  are  left  homeless  and 
friendless.  And  that  at  least  eighty  per  cent,  of  all 
the  crime  and  pauperism  of  the  land  arises  from  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'llK.  393 

eoosamption  of  this  enormous  quantity  of  intoxica- 
ting drinks. 

In  this  single  view,  the  question  of  intemperance 
assumes  a  most  appalling  aspect.  The 

POVERTY  AND  DESTITUTION 

found  in  so  large  a  portion  of  our  laboring  classes, 
and  their  consequent  restlessness  and  discontent, 
come  almost  entirely  from  the  waste  of  substance, 
idleness  and  physical  incapacity  for  work,  which 
attend  the  free  use  of  alcoholic  beverages.  Of  the 
six  or  seven  hundred  millions  of  dollars  paid  an- 
nually for  these  beverages,  not  less  than  two-thirds 
are  taken  out  of  the  earnings  of  our  artisans  and 
laborers,  and  those  who,  like  them,  work  for  wages. 

LOSS  TO  LABOR. 

But  the  loss  does  not,  of  course,  stop  here.  The 
consequent  waste  of  bodily  vigor,  and  the  idleness 
that  is  ever  the  sure  accompaniment  of  drinking, 
rob  this  class  of  at  least  as  much  more.  Total  ab- 
stinence societies,  building  associations,  and  the  use 
of  hanks  for  savings,  instead  of  the  dram-sellers' 
hanks  for  losings,  would  do  more  for  the  well-being 
of  our  working  classes  than  all  the  trades-unions  or 
labor  combinations,  that  ever  have  or  ever  will  e.\i.-t. 
The  laboring  man's  protective  union  lies  in  his  own 
good  common  sense,  united  with  temperance,  sell- 
denial  and  economy.  There  are  very  many  in  our 
land  who  know  this  way;  and  their  condition,  as 
compared  with  those  who  know  it  not,  or  knowing, 


394  STRONG  DRINK; 

will  not  walk  therein,  is   found  to  be  in  striking 
contrast. 

TAXATION. 

Besides  tlie  wasting  drain  for  drink,  and  the  loss 
in  national  wealth,  growing  out  of  the  idleness  and 
diminished  power  for  work,  that  invariably  follows 
the  use  of  alcohol  in  any  of  its  forms,  the  people  are 
heavily  taxed  for  the  repression  and  punishment  of 
crimes,  and  the  support  of  paupers  and  destitute 
children.  A  fact  or  two  will  give  the  reader  some 
idea  of  what  this  enormous  cost  must  be.  In  "  The 
Twentieth  Annual  Report  of  the  Executive  Com- 
mittee of  the  Prison  Association  of  New  York,"  is 
this  sentence :  "  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  of  all 
the  proximate  sources  of  crime,  the  use  of  intoxi- 
cating liquors  is  the  most  prolific  and  the  most 
deadly.  Of  other  causes  it  may  be  said  that  they 
slay  their  thousands ;  of  this  it  may  be  acknowl- 
edged that  it  slays  its  tens  of  thousands.  The  com- 
mittee asked  for  the  opinion  of  the  jail  officers  in 
nearly  every  county  in  the  State  as  to  the  propor- 
tion of  commitments  due,  either  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, to  strong  drink." 

The  whole  number  of  commitments  is  given  in 
these  words :  "  Not  less  than  60,000  to  70,000  [or 
the  sixtieth  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  State 
of  New  York]  human  beings — men,  women  and 
children — either  guilty,  or  arrested  on  suspicion  of 
being  guilty  of  crime,  pass  every  year  through  these 
institutions."  The  answers  made  to  the  committee 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  395 

by  the  jail  officers,  varied  from  two-thirds  as  the 
lowest,  to  nine-tenths  as  the  highest ;  and,  on  taking 
the  average  of  their  figures,  it  gave  seven-eighths 
as  t  lie  j  iroportion  of  commitments  for  crime  directly 
a.-ri -ibed  to  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  ! 

Taking  this  as  the  proportion  of  those  who  are 
made  criminals  through  intemperance,  let  us  get  at 
some  estimate  of  the  cost  to  tax-payers.  We 
find  it  stated  in  Tract  No.  28,  issued  by  the  Na- 
tional Temperance  Society,  that  "  a  committee  was 
appointed  by  the  Ulster  County  Temperance  So- 
ciety, in  1861,  for  the  express  purpose  of  ascertain- 
ing, from  reliable  sources,  the  percentage  on  every 
dollar  tax  paid  to  the  county  to  support  her  paupers 
and  criminal  justice.  The  committee,  after  due 
examination,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  upwards 
of  sixty  cents  on  the  dollar  was  for  the  above  pur- 
pose. This  amount  was  required,  according  to  law, 
to  be  paid  by  every  tax-payer  as  &  penalty,  or  rather 
as  a  rum  bill,  for  allowing  the  liquor  traflic  to  be 
carried  on  in  the  above  county.  What  is  said  of 
Ulster  County,  may,  more  or  less,  if  a  like  examina- 
tion were  entered  into,  be  said  of  every  other  county, 
not  only  in  the  State  of  New  York,  but  in  every 
county  in  the  United  States." 

From  the  same  tract  we  take  this  statement :    "  In 

a  document  published  by  the  Legislature  of  the  State 

of  New  York,  for  18(>J,  being  the  report  of  the. 

•  -tary  of  the  State  to  the  Legislature,  we  have  the 

following  statements:    'The  whole  nuinbei  of  puu- 


396  STRONG  DRINK; 

•pers  relieved  during  the  same  period,  was  261,252. 
During  the  year  1802,  257,354.'  These  numbers 
would  be  in  the  ratio  of  one  pauper  annually  to 
every  fifteen  inhabitants  throughout  the  State.  In 
an  examination  made  into  the  history  of  those  pau- 
pers by  a  competent  committee,  seven-eighths  of 
them  were  reduced  to  this  low  and  degraded  condi- 
tion, directly  or  indirectly,  through  intemperance." 

CUESING  THE  POOR. 

Looking  at  our  laboring  classes,  with  the  fact  before 
us,  that  the  cost  of  the  liquor  sold  annually  by  retail 
dealers  is  equal  to  nearly  $25  for  every  man,  woman 
and  child  in  our  whole  population,  and  we  can 
readily  see  why  so  much  destitution  is  to  be  found 
among  them.  Throwing  out  those  who  abstain 
altogether ;  the  children,  and  a  large  proportion  of 
women,  and  those  who  take  a  glass  only  now  and 
then,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  for  the  rest  the 
average  of  cost  must  be  more  than  treble.  Among 
working  men  who  drink  the  cheaper  beverages,  the 
ratio  of  cost  to  each  cannot  fall  short  of  a  hundred 
dollars  a  year.  With  many,  drink  consumes  from 
a  fourth  to  one-half  of  their  entire  earnings.  Is  it, 
then,  any  wonder  that  so  much  poverty  and  suffer- 
ing are  to  be  found  among  them  ? 

CRIME  AND  PAUPERISM. 

The  causes  chat  produce  crime  and  pauperism  in 
our  own  country,  work  the  same  disastrous  results 
in  other  lands  where  intoxicants  are  used.  An 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl'llK.  397 

English  writer,  speaking  of  the  sad  effects  of  in- 
tern {>erance  in  Great  Britain,  says :  "  One  hundred 
million  pounds,  which  is  now  annually  wasted,  is  a 
sum  as  great  as  was  spent  in  seven  years  upon  all 
the  railways  of  the  kingdom — in  the  very  heyday 
of  railway  projects;  a  sum  so  vast,  that  if  saved 
annually,  for  seven  years,  would  blot  out  the  na- 
tional debt!"  Another  writer  says,  "that  in  the 
year  1865,  over  £6,000,000,  or  a  tenth  part  of  the 
whole  national  revenue,  was  required  to  support  her 
pati{)ers."  Dr.  Lees,  of  London,  in  speaking  of 
Ireland,  says:  "Ireland  has  been  a  poor  nation 
from  want  of  capital,  and  has  wanted  capital  chiefly 
because  the  people  have  preferred  swallowing  it  to 
;ng  it."  The  Rev.  G.  Holt,  chaplain  of  the 
Birmingham  Workhouse,  says:  "From  my  own 
experience,  I  am  convinced  of  the  accuracy  of  a 
statement  made  by  the  late  governor,  that  of  every 
one  hundred  persons  admitted,  ninety-nine  were 
reduced  to  this  state  of  humiliation  and  dependence, 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  through  the  prevalent 
and  ruinous  drinking  usages." 

Mr.  Charles  Buxton,  M.   P.,  in  his  pamphlet, 
"  How  to  Stop  Drunkenness,"  says :  "  It  would  not 
be  too  much  to  say  that  if  all  drinking  of  fer- 
mented liquors  could  be  done  away,  crime  of  every 
kind  would  fall  to  a  fourth  of  its  present  amount, 
and  the  whole,  tone  of  moral  feeling  in  the  1- 
<>rder  might  be  indefinitely  raised.     Not  only 
this  vice  produce  all  kinds  of  wanton  mischief,  but 


398  STROSQ  DRINK; 

it  has  also  a  negative  effect  of  great  importance. 
It  is  the  mightiest  of  all  the  forces  that  clog  the 
progress  of  good.  *  *  *  The  struggle  of  the  school, 
the  library  and  the  church,  all  united  against  the 
beer-shop  and  the  gin-palace,  is  but  one  development 
of  the  war  between  Heaven  and  hell.  It  is,  in  short, 
intoxication  that  fills  our  jails;  it  is  intoxication 
that  fills  our  lunatic  asylums ;  it  is  intoxication  that 
fills  our  work-houses  with  poor.  Were  it  not  for 
this  one  cause,  pauperism  would  be  nearly  extin- 
guished in  England." 

THE  BLIGHT  EVERYWHERE. 

We  could  go  on  and  fill  pages  with  corroborative 
facts  and  figures,  drawn  from  the  most  reliable 
sources.  But  these  are  amply  sufficient  to  show  the 
extent  and  magnitude  of  the  curse  which  the  liquor 
traffic  has  laid  upon  our  people.  Its  blight  is 
everywhere — on  our  industries,  on  our  social  life ; 
on  our  politics,,  and  even  on  our  religion. 

And,  now,  let  us  take  the  individual  man  him- 
self, and  see  in  what  manner  this  treacherous  enemy 
deals  with  him  when  he  gets  him  into  his  power. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IT  CURSES  THE  BODY. 

T7URST  as  to  the  body.  One  would  suppose,  from 
the  marred  and  scarred,  and  sometimes  awfully 
di- figured  forms  and  faces  of  men  who  have  indulged 
in  intoxicating  drinks,  which  are  to  be  seen  every- 
where and  among  all  classes  of  society,  that  there 
would  be  no  need  of  other  testimony  to  show  that 
:ilo)hol  is  an  enemy  to  the  body.  And  yet,  strange 
to  say,  men  of  good  sense,  clear  judgment  and  quick 
ption  in  all  moral  questions  and  in  the  general 
affairs  of  life,  are  often  so  blind,  or  infatuated  here, 
as  to  affirm  that  this  substance,  alcohol,  which  they 
use  under  the  various  forms  of  wine,  brandy,  whisky, 
gin,  ale  or  beer,  is  not  only  harmless,  when  taken  in 
moderation — each  being  his  own  judge  as  to  what 
"  moderation  "  means — but  actually  useful  and  nu- 
tritious! 

Until  within  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  a 
large  proportion  of  the  medical  profession  not  only 
favored  this  view,  but  made  constant  prescription  of 
alcohol  in  one  f..nn  or  another,  the  sad  results  of 
which  too  often  made  their  appearance  in  exacerba- 
tions of  disease,  or  in  the  formation  of  intemperate 
399 


400  STRONG  DRINK; 

habits  among  their  patients.  "Since  then,  the  chemist 
and  the  physiologist  have  subjected  alcohol  to  the 
most  rigid  tests,  carried  on  often  for  years,  and  with 
a  faithfulness  that  could  not  be  satisfied  with  guess 
work,  or  inference,  or  hasty  conclusion. 

ALCOHOL  NOT  A  FOOD  AND  OF  DOUBTFUL  USE  AS  A 
MEDICINE. 

As  a  result  of  these  carefully-conducted  and  long- 
continued  examinations  and  experiments,  the  medi- 
cal profession  stands  to-day  almost  as  a  unit  against 
alcohol ;  and  makes  solemn  public  declaration  to 
the  people  that  it  "is  not  shown  to  have  a 
definite  food  value  by  any  of  the  usual  methods 
of  chemical  analysis  or  physiological  investiga- 
tions;" and  that  as  a  medicine  its  range  is  very 
limited,  admitting  often  of  a  substitute,  and  that  it 
should  never  be  taken  unless  prescribed  by  a  phy- 
sician. 

Reports  of  these  investigations  to  which  we  have 
referred  have  appeared,  from  time  to  time,  in  the 
medical  journals  of  Europe  and  America,  and  their 
results  are  now  embodied  in  many  of  the  standard 
and  most  reliable  treatises  and  text-books  of  the 
medical  profession. 

In  this  chapter  we  shall  endeavor  to  give  our 
readers  a  description  of  the  changes  and  deteriora- 
tions which  take  place  in  the  blood,  nerves,  mem- 
branes, tissues  and  organs,  in  consequence  of  the 
continued  introduction  of  alcohol  into  the  human 
body ;  and  in  doing  so,  we  shall  quote  freely  from 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  4Q1 

medical  writers,  in  order  that  our  readers  may  have 
the  testimony  before  them  in  its  directest  form,  and 
so  be  able  to  judge  for  themselves  as  to  its  value. 

DIGESTION. 

And  here,  in  order  to  give  those  who  are  not 
familiar  with  the  process  of  digestion,  a  clear  idea 
of  that  important  operation,  and  the  effect  produced 
when  alcohol  is  taken  with  food,  we  quote  from  the 
lecture  of  an  English  physician,  Dr.  Henry  Monroe, 
on  "The  Physiological  Action  of  Alcohol."  He 
says: 

"  Every  kind  of  substance  employed  by  man  as 
food  consists  of  sugar,  starch,  oil  and  glutinous 
matters,  mingled  together  in  various  proportions; 
these  are  designed  for  the  support  of  the  animal 
frame.  The  glutinous  principles  of  food — -fibrine, 
(tllmmen  and  casein — are  employed  to  build  up  the 
structure ;  while  the  oil,  starch  and  sugar  are  chiefly 
used  to  generate  heat  in  the  body. 

"The  first  step  of  the  digestive  process  is  the 
breaking  up  of  the  food  in  the  mouth  by  means  of 
the  jaws  and  teeth.  On  this  being  done,  the  saliva, 
a  viscid  liquor,  is  poured  into  the  mouth  from  the 
salivary  glands,  and  as  it  mixes  with  the  food,  it 
performs  a  very  important  part  in  the  operation  of 
(liiM'stion,  rendering  the  starch  of  the  food  soluble, 
and  gradually  changing  it  into  a  sort  of  sugar,  after 
whii-li  the  other  principles  become  more  miscible 
with  it.  Nearly  a  pint  of  saliva  is  furnished  every 
26 


402  STEONO  DRINK; 

twenty-four  hours  for  the  use  of  an  adult.  When 
the  food  has  been  masticated  and  mixed  with  the 
saliva,  it  is  then  passed  into  the  stomach,  where  it 
is  acted  upon  by  a  juice  secreted  by  the  filaments  of 
that  organ,  and  poured  into  the  stomach  in  large 
quantities  whenever  food  comes  in  contact  with  its 
mucous  coats.  It  consists  of  a  dilute  acid  known  to 
the  chemists  as  hydrochloric  acid,  composed  of  hy- 
drogen and  chlorine,  united  together  in  certain 
definite  proportions.  The  gastric  juice  contains,  also, 
a  peculiar  organic-ferment  or  decomposing  substance, 
containing  nitrogen — something  of  the  nature  of 
yeast — termed  pepsine,  which  is  easily  soluble  in 
the  acid  just  named.  That  gastric  juice  acts  as  a 
simple  chemical  solvent,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that, 
after  death,  it  has  been  known  to  dissolve  the 
stomach  itself. 

ALCOHOL  RETARDS  DIGESTION. 

"  It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that,  after  a  good  din- 
ner, a  glass  of  spirits  or  beer  assists  digestion ;  or 
that  any  liquor  containing  alcohol — even  bitter 
beer— can  in  any  way  assist  digestion.  Mix  some 
bread  and  meat  with  gastric  juice;  place  them  in  a 
phial,  and  keep  that  phial  in  a  sand-bath  at  the 
slow  heat  of  98  degrees,  occasionally  shaking  briskly 
the  contents  to  imitate  the  motion  of  the  stomach ; 
you  will  find,  after  six  or  eight  hours,  the  whole 
contents  blended  into  one  pultaceous  mass.  If  to 
another  phial  of  food  and  gastric  juice,  treated  in 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  4Q3 

the  PMTMO  way,  I  add  a  glass  of  pale  ale  or  a  quantity 
of  alcohol,  at  the  end  of  seven  or  eight  hours,  or 
even  some  days,  the  food  is  scarcely  acted  upon  at 
all.  This  is  a  fact;  and  if  you  are  led  to  ask  why, 
I  answer,  because  alcohol  has  the  peculiar  power  of 
chemically  affecting  or  decomposing  the  gastric 
juice  by  precipitating  one  of  its  principal  constitu- 
ents, viz.,  pepsine,  rendering  its  solvent  properties 
much  less  efficacious.  Hence  alcohol  can  not  be 
considered  either  as  food  or  as  a  solvent  for  food. 
Not  as  the  latter  certainly,  for  it  refuses  to  act  with 
the  gastric  juice. 

" '  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,'  says  Dr.  Dundas 
Thompson,  '  that  alcohol,  when  added  to  the  digest- 
ive fluid,  produces  a  white  precipitate,  so  that  the 
Html  i.s  no  longer  capable  of  digesting  animal  or 
vegetable  matter.'  '  The  use  of  alcoholic  stimulants,' 
say  Drs.  Todd  and  Bowman,  '  retards  digestion  by 
coagulating  the  pepsine,  an  essential  element  of  the 
gastric  juice,  and  thereby  interfering  with  its  action. 
< !  it  not  that  wine  and  spirits  are  rapidly  ab- 
sorbed, the  introduction  of  these  into  the  stomach, 
in  any  quantity,  would  be  a  complete  bar  to  the 
-lion  of  food,  as  the  pepsine  would  be  precipi- 
tated from  the  solution  as  quickly  as  it  was  formed 
by  the  stomach.'  Spirit,  in  any  quantity,  as  a  dietary 
adjunct,  is  pernicious  on  account  of  its  antiseptic 
qualities,  which  resist  the  digestion  of  food  by  the 
absorption  of  water  from  its  particles,  in  direct  aii- 
to  chemical  operation." 


404  STRONG  DRINK; 

ITS  EFFECT  ON  THE  BLOOD. 

Dr.  Richardson,  in  his  lectures  on  alcohol,  given 
both  in  England  and  America,  speaking  of  the 
action  of  this  substance  on  the  blood  after  passing 
from  the  stomach,  says : 

"  Suppose,  then,  a  certain  measure  of  alcohol  be 
taken  into  the  stomach,  it  will  be  absorbed  there, 
but,  previous  to  absorption,  it  will  have  to  undergo 
a  proper  degree  of  dilution  with  water,  for  there  is 
this  peculiarity  respecting  alcohol  when  it  is  sepa- 
rated by  an  animal  membrane  from  a  watery  fluid 
like  the  blood,  that  it  will  not  pass  through  the 
membrane  until  it  has  become  charged,  to  a  given 
point  of  dilution,  with  water.  It  is  itself,  in  fact,  so 
greedy  for  water,  it  will  pick  it  up  from  watery 
textures,  and  deprive  them  of  it  until,  by  its  satura- 
tion, its  power  of  reception  is  exhausted,  after  which 
it  will  diffuse  into  the  current  of  circulating  fluid." 

It  is  this  power  of  absorbing  water  from  every 
texture  with  which  alcoholic  spirits  comes  in  con- 
tact, that  creates  the  burning  thirst  of  those  who 
freely  indulge  in  its  use.  Its  effect,  when  it  reaches 
the  circulation,  is  thus  described  by  Dr.  Richardson : 

"  As  it  passes  through  the  circulation  of  the  lungs 
it  is  exposed  to  the  air,  and  some  little  of  it,  raised 
into  vapor  by  the  natural  heat,  is  thrown  off  in  ex- 
piration. If  the  quantity  of  it  be  large,  this  loss 
may  be  considerable,  and  the  odor  of  the  spirit  may 
be  detected  in  the  expired  breath.  If  the  quantity 
be  small,  the  loss  will  be  comparatively  little,  as  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'M. 

spirit  will  l>e  held  in  solution  by  the  water  in  the 
blood.  After  it  has  j.asscd  through  the  lungs,  and 
has  been  driven  by  the  left  heart  over  the  arterial 
circuit,  it  passes  into  what  is  called  the  minute 
circulation,  or  the  structural  circulation  of  the 
organism.  The  arteries  here  extend  into  very  small 
yessels,  which  are  called  arterioles,  and  from  these 
infinitely  small  vessels  spring  the  equally  minute 
radicals  or  roots  of  the  veins,  which  are  ultimately 
to  become  the  great  rivers  bearing  the  blood  back 
to  the  heart.  In  its  passage  through  this  minute 
circulation  the  alcohol  finds  its  way  to  every  organ. 
To  this  brain,  to  these  muscles,  to  these  secreting  or 
excreting  organs,  nay,  even  into  this  bony  structure 
itself,  it  moves  with  the  blood.  In  some  of  these 
parts  which  are  not  excreting,  it  remains  for  a  time 
diffused,  and  in  those  parts  where  there  is  a  large 
percentage  of  water,  it  remains  longer  than  in  other 
.  From  some  organs  which  have  an  open  tube 
for  conveying  fluids  away,  as  the  liver  and  kidneys, 
it  is  thrown  out  or  eliminated,  and  in  this  way  a 
portion  of  it  is  ultimately  removed  from  the  body. 
The  rest  passing  round  and  round  with  the  circula- 
tion, is  probably  decomposed  and  carried  off  in  new 
ion  us  of  matter. 

"  When  we  know  the  course  which  the  alcohol 
takes  in  its  passage  through  the  body,  from  the 
period  of  its  absorption  to  that,  of  its  elimination,  we 
aiv  the  better  ahle  to  judge  what  physical  changes 
it  induces  in  the  different  organs  and  structures 


406  STRONG  DRINK; 

with  which  it  comes  in  contact.  It  first  reaches  the 
blood ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the  quantity  of  it  that  enters 
is  insufficient  to  produce  any  material  effect  on  that 
fluid.  If,  however,  the  dose  taken  be  poisonous  or 
semi-poisonous,  then  even  the  blood,  rich  as  it  is  in 
water — and  it  contains  seven  hundred  and  ninety 
parts  in  a  thousand — is  affected.  The  alcohol  is 
diffused  through  this  water,  and  there  it  comes  in 
contact  with  the  other  constituent  parts,  with  the 
fibrine,  that  plastic  substance  which,  when  blood  is 
drawn,  clots  and  coagulates,  and  which  is  present  in 
the  proportion  of  from  two  to  three  parts  in  a  thou- 
sand ;  with  the  albumen  which  exists  in  the  propor- 
tion of  seventy  parts ;  with  the  salts  which  yield 
about  ten  parts ;  with  the  fatty  matters ;  and  lastly, 
with  those  minute,  round  bodies  which  float  in 
myriads  in  the  blood  (which  were  discovered  by  the 
Dutch  philosopher,  Leuwenhock,  as  one  of  the  first 
results  of  microscopical  observation,  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  seventeenth  century),  and  which  are  called 
the  blood  globules  or  corpuscles.  These  last-named 
bodies  are,  in  fact,  cells ;  their  discs,  when  natural, 
have  a  smooth  outline,  they  are  depressed  in  the 
centre,  and  they  are  red  in  color ;  the  color  of  the 
blood  being  derived  from  them.  We  have  disco- 
vered in  recent  years  that  there  exist  other  corpus- 
cles or  cells  in  the  blood  in  much  smaller  quantity, 
which  are  called  white  cells,  and  these  different  cells 
float  in  the  blood-stream  within  the  vessels.  The 
red  take  the  centre  of  the  stream;  the  white  lie 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  4Q7 

rnally  in-ar  the  sides  of  the  vessels,  moving  less 
quickly.  Our  business  is  mainly  with  the  red  cor- 
puscles. They  perform  the  most  important  func- 
tions in  the  economy ;  they  absorb,  in  great  part, 
the  oxygen  which  we  inhale  in  breathing,  and  carry 
it  to  the  extreme  tissues  of  the  body ;  they  absorb, 
in  great  part,  the  carbonic  acid  gas  which  is  produced 
in  the  combustion  of  the  body  in  the  extreme  tissues, 
and  bring  that  gas  back  to  the  lungs  to  be  exchanged 
for  oxygen  there ;  in  short,  they  are  the  vital  in- 
struments of  the  circulation. 

"  With  all  these  parts  of  the  blood,  with  the  water, 
fibrine,  albumen,  salts,  fatty  matter  and  corpuscles, 
the  alcohol  comes  in  contact  when  it  enters  the 
blood,  and,  if  it  be  in  sufficient  quantity,  it  produces 
disturbing  action.  I  have  watched  this  disturbance 
very  carefully  on  the  blood  corpuscles ;  for,  in  some 
an  i  mala  we  can  see  these  floating  along  during  life,  and 
we  can  also  observe  them  from  men  who  are  under  the 
effects  of  alcohol,  by  removing  a  speck  of  blood,  and 
examining  it  with  the  microscope.  The  action  of 
the  alcohol,  when  it  is  observable,  is  varied.  It  may 
cause  the  corpuscles  to  run  too  closely  together,  and 
to  adhere  in  rolls;  it  may  modify  their  outline, 
making  the  clear-defined,  smooth,  outer  edge  irregu- 
lar or  crenate,  or  even  starlike ;  it  may  change  the 
round  corpuscle  into  the  oval  form,  or,  in  very  ex- 
treme cases,  it  may  produce  what  I  may  call  a 
truncated  form  of  corpuscles,  in  which  the  change 
is  so  great  that  if  we  did  not  trace  it  through  all  iU 


408  STRONG  DRINK; 

stages,  we  should  be  puzzled  to  know  whether  the 
object  looked  at  were  indeed  a  blood-cell.  All  these 
changes  are  due  to  the  action  of  the  spirit  upon  the 
water  contained  in  the  corpuscles ;  upon  the  capacity 
of  the  spirit  to  extract  water  from  them.  During 
every  stage  of  modification  of  corpuscles  thus  de- 
scribed, their  function  to  absorb  and  fix  gases  is 
impaired,  and  when  the  aggregation  of  the  cells,  in 
masses,  is  great,  other  difficulties  arise,  for  the  cells, 
united  together,  pass  less  easily  than  they  should 
through  the  minute  vessels  of  the  lungs  and  of  the 
general  circulation,  and  impede  the  current,  by 
which  local  injury  is  produced. 

"A  further  action  upon  the  blood,  instituted  by 
alcohol  in  excess,  is  upon  the  fibrine  or  the  plastic 
colloidal  matter.  On  this  the  spirit  may  act  hi  two 
different  ways,  according  to  the  degree  in  which  it 
affects  the  water  that  holds  the  fibriue  in  solution, 
It  may  fix  the  water  with  the  fibrine,  and  thus 
destroy  the  power  of  coagulation ;  or  it  may  extract 
the  water  so  determinately  as  to  produce  coagulation." 

ON  THE  MINUTE  CIRCULATION. 

The  doctor  then  goes  on  to  describe  the  minute 
circulation  through  which  the  constructive  material 
in  the  blood  is  distributed  to  every  part  of  the  body. 
"From  this  distribution  of  blood  in  these  minute 
vessels,"  he  says,  "the  structure  of  organs  derive 
their  constituent  parts ;  through  these  vessels  brain 
matter,  muscle,  gland,  membrane,  are  given  out  from 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

tin-  blood  by  a  refined  process  of  selection  of  material, 
which,  up  to  this  time,  is  only  so  far  understood  as 
to  enable  us  to  say  that  it  exists.  The  minute  and 
intermediate  vessels  are  more  intimately  connected 
than  any  other  part  with  the  construction  and  with 
the  function  of  the  living  matter  of  which  the  body 
is  composed.  Think  you  that  this  mechanism  is 
left  uncontrolled  ?  No ;  the  vessels,  small  as  they 
are  under  distinct  control.  Infinitely  refined 
in  structure,  they  nevertheless  have  the  power  of 
contraction  and  dilatation,  which  power  is  governed 
by  nervous  action  of  a  special  kind." 

Now,  there  are  certain  chemical  agents,  which,  by 
their  action  on  the  nerves,  have  the  power  to  para- 
lyze and  relax  these  minute  blood-vessels,  at  their 
extreme  points.  "The  whole  series  of  nitrates," 
says  Dr.  Richardson,  "possess  this  power;  ether 
possesses  it ;  but  the  great  point  I  wish  to  bring  forth 
is,  that  the  substance  we  are  specially  dealing  with, 
alcohol,  possesses  the  self-same  power.  By  this 
influence  it  produces  all  those  peculiar  effects  which 
in  every-- lay  life  are  so  frequently  illustrated." 

PARALYZES  THE  MINUTE  BLOOD-VESSELS. 

It  paralyzes  the  minute  blood-vessels,  and  allows 
them  to  become  dilated  with  the  flowing  blood. 

"  If  you  attend  a  large  dinner  party,  you  will 
observe,  after  the  first  few  courses,  when  the  wine 
is  beginning  to  circulate,  a  progressive  change  in 
some  of  those  about  you  who  have  taken  wine. 


410  STRONG  DRINK; 

The  face  begins  to  get  flushed,  the  eye  brightens, 
and  the  murmur  of  conversation  becomes  loud. 
What  is  the  reason  of  that  flushing  of  the  counte- 
nance ?  It  is  the  same  as  the  flush  from  blushing, 
or  from  the  reaction  of  cold,  or  from  the  nitrite  of 
amyl.  It  is  the  dilatation  of  vessels  following  upon 
the  reduction  of  nervous  control,  which  reduction 
has  been  induced  by  the  alcohol.  In  a  word,  the 
first  stage,  the  stage  of  vascular  excitement  from 
alcohol,  has  been  established. 

HEAET  DISTURBANCE. 

"  The  action  of  the  alcohol  extending  so  far  does 
not  stop  there.  With  the  disturbance  of  power  in 
the  extreme  vessels,  more  disturbance  is  set  up  in 
other  organs,  and  the  first  organ  that  shares  in  it  is 
the  heart.  With  each  beat  of  the  heart  a  certain 
degree  of  resistance  is  offered  by  the  vessels  when 
their  nervous  supply  is  perfect,  and  the  stroke  of 
the  heart  is  moderated  in  respect  both  to  tension 
and  to  time.  But  when  the  vessels  are  rendered 
relaxed,  the  resistance  is  removed,  the  heart  begins 
to  run  quicker,  like  a  watch  from  which  the  pallets 
have  been  removed,  and  the  heart-stroke,  losing 
nothing  in  force,  is  greatly  increased  in  frequency, 
with  a  weakened  recoil  stroke.  It  is  easy  to  account, 
in  this  manner,  for  the  quickened  heart  and  pulse 
which  accompany  the  first  stage  of  deranged  action 
from  alcohol,  and  you  will  be  interested  to  know  to 
what  extent  this  increase  of  vascular  action  proceeds. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'IlK. 

The  information  on  this  subject  is  exceedingly  curi- 
ous and  important." 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

"  The  stage  of  primary  excitement  of  the  circu- 
lation thus  induced  lasts  for  a  considerable  time,  but 
at  length  the  heart  flags  from  its  overaction,  and  re- 
quires the  stimulus  of  more  spirit  to  carry  it  on  in 
its  work.  Let  us  take  what  we  may  call  a  moderate 
amount  of  alcohol,  say  two  ounces  by  volume,  in 
form  of  wine,  or  beer,  or  spirits.  What  is  called 
strong  sherry  or  port  may  contain  as  much  as 
twenty-five  per  cent,  by  volume.  Brandy  over  fifty; 
gin,  thirty -eight;  rum,  forty-eight;  whisky,  forty- 
three;  vin  ordeinairc,  eight;  strong  ale,  fourteen; 
champagne,  ten  to  eleven;  it  matters  not  which,  if 
the  tjtiantity  of  alcohol  be  regulated  by  the  amount 
present  in  the  liquor  imbibed.  When  we  reach  thy 
two  ounces,  a  distinct  physiological  effect  follows, 
hading  on  to  that  first  stage  of  excitement  with 
which  we  are  now  conversant.  The  reception  of 
tli«  spirit  arrested  at  this  point,  there  need  be  no 
important  mischief  done  to  the  organism ;  but  if 
the  (juantity  imbibed  be  increased,  further  changes 
quickly  occur.  We  have  seen  that  all  the  organs 
of  the  body  are  built  upon  the  vascular  structures, 
and  therefore  it  follows  that  a  prolonged  paralysis 
of  the  minute  circulation  must  of  necessity  lead  to 
disturbance  in  other  organs  than  the  heart. 


412  STRONG  DRINK; 

OTHER  ORGANS  INVOLVED. 

"  By  common  observation,  the  flush  seen  on  the 
cheek  during  the  first  stage  of  alcoholic  excitation, 
is  presumed  to  extend  merely  to  the  parts  actually 
exposed  to  view.  It  cannot,  however,  be  too  forci- 
bly impressed  that  the  condition  is  universal  in  the 
body.  If  the  lungs  could  be  seen,  they,  too,  would 
be  found  with  their  vessels  injected ;  if  the  brain  and 
spinal  cord  could  be  laid  open  to  view,  they  would 
be  discovered  in  the  same  condition ;  if  the  stomach, 
the  liver,  the  spleen,  the  kidneys  or  any  other  vas- 
cular organs  or  parts  could  be  exposed,  the  vascular 
engorgement  would  be  equally  manifest.  In  the 
lower  animals,  I  have  been  able  to  witness  this  ex- 
treme vascular  condition  in  the  lungs,  and  there  are 
here  presented  to  jou  two  drawings  from  nature, 
showing,  one  the  lungs  in  a  natural  state  of  an 
animal  killed  by  a  sudden  blow,  the  other  the  lungs 
of  an  animal  killed  equally  suddenly,  but  at  a  time 
when  it  was  under  the  influence  of  alcohol.  You 
will  see,  as  if  you  were  looking  at  the  structures 
themselves,  how  different  they  are  in  respect  to  the 
blood  which  they  contained,  how  intensely  charged 
with  blood  "is  the  lung  in  which  the  vessels  had 
been  paralyzed  by  the  alcoholic  scirit. 

EFFECT  ON  THE  BRAIN. 

"  I  once  had  the  unusual,  though  unhappy,  op- 
portunity of  observing  the  same  phenomenon  in  the 
brain  structure  of  a  man,  who,  in  a  paroxysm  of 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CUKE.  4J3 

alcoholic  excitement,  decapitated  himself  under  the 
whirl  <>f  a  railway  carriage,  and  whose  brain  was 
instantaneously  evolved  from  the  skull  by  the  crash. 
The  brain  itself,  entire,  was  before  me  within  three 
minutes  after  the  death.  It  exhaled  the  odor  of 
spirit  most  distinctly,  and  its  membranes  and 
minute  structures  were  vascular  in  the  extreme.  It 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  recently  injected  with  ver- 
milion. The  white  matter  of  the  cerebrum,  studded 
with  red  points,  could  scarcely  be  distinguished, 
wlien  it  was  incised,  by  its  natural  whiteness;  and 
the  pia-mater,  or  internal  vascular  membrane  cov- 
ering the  brain,  resembled  a  delicate  web  of  coagu- 
lated red  blood,  so  tensely  were  its  fine  vessels  en- 
gorged. 

"  I  should  add  that  this  condition  extended  through 
both  the  larger  and  the  smaller  brain,.the  cerebrum 
and  cerebellum,  but  was  not  so  marked  in  the  me- 
dulla or  commencing  portion  of  the  spinal  cord. 

Till:  SPINAL  CORD  AND  NERVES. 

"The  action  of  alcohol  continued  beyond  the 
first  stage,  the  function  of  the  spinal  cord  is  influ- 
enced. Through  this  part  of  the  nervous  system 
we  are  accustomed,  in  health,  to  perform  automatic 
acts  of  a  mechanical  kind,  which  proceed  systemati- 
cally even  when  we  are  thinking  or  speaking  on 
other  subjects.  Thus  a  skilled  workman  will  con- 
tinue his  mechanical  work  perieetly,  while  his  mind 
is  bent  on  some  other  subject;  and  thus  we  all  per- 


414  STItONG  DRINK; 

form  various  acts  in  a  purely  automatic  way,  without 
calling  in  the  aid  of  the  higher  centres,  except 
something  more  than  ordinary  occurs  to  demand 
their  service,  upon  which  we  think  before  we  per- 
form. Under  alcohol,  as  the  spinal  centres  become 
influenced,  these  pure  automatic  acts  cease  to  be 
correctly  carried  on.  That  the  hand  may  reach  any 
object,  or  the  foot  be  correctly  planted,  the  higher 
intellectual  centre  must  be  invoked  to  make  the 
proceeding  secure.  There  follows  quickly  upon 
this  a  deficient  power  of  co-ordination  of  muscular 
movement.  The  nervous  control  of  certain  of  the 
muscles  is  lost,  and  the  nervous  stimulus  is  more  or 
less  enfeebled.  The  muscles  of  the  lower  lip  in  the 
human  subject  usually  fail  first  of  all,  then  the 
muscles  of  the  lower  limbs,  and  it  is  worthy  of 
remark  that  the  extensor  muscles  give  way  earlier 
than  the  flexors.  The  muscles  themselves,  by  this 
time,  are  also  failing  in  power ;  they  respond  more 
feebly  than  is  natural  to  the  nervous  stimulus; 
they,  too,  are  coming  under  the  depressing  influ- 
ence of  the  paralyzing  agent,  their  structure  is 
temporarily  deranged,  and  their  contractile  power 
reduced. 

"  This  modification  of  the  animal  functions  under 
alcohol,  marks  the  second  degree  of  its  action.  In 
young  subjects,  there  is  now,  usually,  vomiting  with 
faintness,  followed  by  gradual  relief  from  the  burden 
of  the  poison. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE. 
EFFECT  ON  THE  BRAIN  CENTRES. 

"  The  alcoholic  spirit  carried  yet  a  further  degree, 
the  cerebral  or  brain  centres  become  influenced ; 
they  are  reduced  in  power,  and  the  controlling 
influences  of  will  and  of  judgment  are  lost.  As 
these  centres  are  unbalanced  and  thrown  into  chaos, 
the  rational  part  of  the  nature  of  the  man  gives 
way  before  the  emotional,  passional  or  organic  part. 
The  reason  is  now  off  duty,  or  is  fooling  with  duty, 
and  all  the  mere  animal  instincts  and  sentiments 
arc  laid  atrociously  bare.  The  coward  shows  up 
more  craven,  the  braggart  more  boastful,  the  cruel 
more  merciless,  the  untruthful  more  false,  the  carnal 
more  degraded.  '  In  vino  veriias'  expresses,  even, 
indeed,  to  physiological  accuracy,  the  true  condition. 
Tin-  reason,  the  emotions,  the  instincts,  are  all  in  a 
state  of  carnival,  and  in  chaotic  feebleness. 

"  Finally,  the  action  of  the  alcohol  still  extending, 
the  superior  brain  centres  are  overpowered;  the 
senses  are  beclouded,  the  voluntary  muscular  pros- 
tration is  perfected,  sensibility  is  lost,  and  the  body 
lies  a  mere  log,  dead  by  all  but  one-fourth,  on  which 
alone  its  life  hangs.  The  heart  still  remains  true  to 
its  duty,  and  while  it  just  lives  it  feeds  the  breathing 
power.  And  so  the  circulation  and  the  respiration, 
in  tin;  otherwise  inert  mass,  keeps  the  mass  within 
the  Itare  domain  of  life  until  the  poison  be-ins  to 
pass  away  and  the  nervous  centres  to  revive  again. 
It  is  happy  for  the  inebriate  that,  as  a  rule,  the 
brain  fails  so  long  before  the  heart  that  he  has 


416  STRONG  DRINK; 

neither  the  power  nor  the  sense  to  continue  his 
process  of  destruction  up  to  the  act  of  death  of  his 
circulation.  Therefore  he  lives  to  die  another  day. 

•.;::!::•::!:#  *  #* 

"  Such  is  an  outline  of  the  primary  action  of  alco- 
hol on  those  who  may  be  said  to  be  unaccustomed 
to  it,  or  who  have  not  yet  fallen  into  a  fixed  habit 
of  taking  it.  For  a  long  time  the  organism  will 
bear  these  perversions  of  its  functions  without  ap- 
parent injury,  but  if  the  experiment  be  repeated  too 
often  and  too  long,  if  it  be  continued  after  the  term 
of  life  when  the  body  is  fully  developed,  when  the 
elasticity  of  the  membranes  and  of  the  blood-vessels 
is  lessened,  and  when  the  tone  of  the  muscular  fibre 
is  reduced,  then  organic  series  of  structural  changes, 
so  characteristic  of  the  persistent  effects  of  spirit, 
become  prominent  and  permanent.  Then  the  ex- 
ternal surface  becomes  darkened  and  congested,  its 
vessels,  in  parts,  visibly  large;  the  skin  becomes 
blotched,  the  proverbial  red  nose  is  defined,  and 
those  other  striking  vascular  changes  which  disfigure 
many  who  may  probably  be  called  moderate  alco- 
holics, are  developed.  These  changes,  belonging, 
as  they  do,  to  external  surfaces,  come  under  direct 
observation ;  they  are  accompanied  with  certain 
other  changes  in  the  internal  organs,  which  we  shall 
show  to  be  more  destructive  still." 


CHAPTER  III. 

IT  CURSES  THE  BODY.— COX-TINTED. 

WE  have  quoted  thus  freely  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  in  order  that  the   intelligent  and 
thoughtful  reader,  who  is  really  seeking  for  the 
truth   in  regard  to  the  physical  action  of  alcohol, 
may  be  able  to  gain  clear  impressions  on  the  sub- 
The  specific  changes  wrought  by  this  sub- 
stance on  the  internal  organs  are  of  a  most  serious 
character,  and  should  be   well   understood   by  all 
>  indulge  habitually  in  its  use. 

EFFECT  OX  THE  MEMBRANES. 

The  parts  which  first  suffer  from  alcohol  are 
those  expansions  of  the  body  which  the  anatomists 
call  the  membranes.  "  The  skin  is  a  membranous 
envelope.  Through  the  whole  of  the  alimentary 
surface,  from  the  lips  downward,  and  through  the 
bronchial  passages  to  their  minutest  ramifications, 

nds  the  mucous  membrane.  The  lung?,  the 
In 'art,  the  liver,  the  kidneys  are  folded  in  delicate 
membranes,  which  can  be  stripped  easily  from  these 

3.  If  you  take  a  portion  of  bone,  you  will  find 
it  easy  to  strip  oil'  from  it  a  membranous  sheath  or 
covering;  if  you  examine  a  joint,  you  will  find  both 
the  head  and  the  socket  lined  \\iih  membranes.  The 

417 


418  STRONG  DRINK; 

whole  of  the  intestines  are  enveloped  in  a  fine  mem- 
brane called  peritoneum.  All  the  muscles  are 
enveloped  in  membranes,  and  the  fasciculi,  or  bun- 
dles and  fibres  of  muscles,  have  their  membranous 
sheathing.  The  brain  and  spinal  cord  are  enveloped 
in  three  membranes ;  one  nearest  to  themselves,  a 
pure  vascular  structure,  a  net- work  of  blood-vessels ; 
another,  a  thin  serous  structure ;  a  third,  a  strong 
fibrous  structure.  The  eyeball  is  a  structure  of 
colloidal  humors  and  membranes,  and  of  nothing 
else.  To  complete  the  description,  the  minute 
structures  of  the  vital  organs  are  enrolled  in  mem- 
branous matter." 

These  membranes  are  the  filters  of  the  body. 
"In  their  absence  there  could  be  no  building  of 
structure,  no  solidification  of  tissue,  nor  organic 
mechanism.  Passive  themselves,  they,  nevertheless, 
separate  all  structures  into  their  respective  positions 
and  adaptations." 

MEMBRANOUS  DETERIORATIONS. 

In  order  to  make  perfectly  clear  to  the  reader's 
mind  the  action  and  use  of  these  membranous  ex- 
pansions, and  the  way  in  which  alcohol  deteriorates 
them,  and  obstructs  their  work,  we  quote  again  from 
Dr.  Richardson : 

"  The  animal  receives  from  the  vegetable  world 
and  from  the  earth  the  food  and  drink  it  requires 
for  its  sustenance  and  motion.  It  receives  colloidal 
food  for  its  muscles :  combustible  food  for  its  motion; 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CUKE. 

for  the  solution  of  its  various  parts;  salt  for 
(••instructive  and  other  physical  purposes.  These 
all  to  be  arranged  in  the  body;  and  they  are 
arranged  by  means  of  the  membranous  envelopes. 
Through  these  membranes  nothing  can  pass  that 
is  not,  for  the  time,  in  a  state  of  aqueous  solution, 
like  -water  or  soluble  salts.  Water  passes  freely 
through  them,  salts  pass  freely  through  them,  but 
the  constructive  matter  of  the  active  parts  that  is 
colloidal  does  not  pass ;  it  is  retained  in  them  until 
it  is  chemically  decomposed  into  the  soluble  type  of 
matter.  When  we  take  for  our  food  a  portion  of 
animal  flesh,  it  is  first  resolved,  in  digestion,  into  a 
soluble  fluid  before  it  can  be  absorbed ;  in  the  blood 
it  is  resolved  into  the  fluid  colloidal  condition ;  in 
the  solids  it  is  laid  down  within  the  membranes  into 
IK  w  structure,  and  when  it  has  played  its  part,  it  is 
digested  again,  if  I  may  so  say,  into  a  crystalloidal 
soluble  substance,  ready  to  be  carried  away  and 
replaced  by  addition  of  new  matter,  then  it  is  dia- 
lysed  or  passed  through  the  membranes  into  the 
blood,  and  is  disposed  of  in  the  excretions. 

"See,  then,  what  an  all-important  part  these 
membranous  structures  play  in  the  animal  life. 
Upon  their  integrity  all  the  silent  work  of  the 
building  up  of  the  body  depends.  If  these  mem- 
branes are  rendered  too  porous,  and  let  out  the  col- 
loidal fluids  of  the  blood — the  albumen,  for  example 
— the  body  so  circumstanced,  dies;  dies  as  if  it 
were  slowly  bled  to  death.  11',  on  the  contrary, 


420  STRONG  DRINK; 

tliey  become  condensed  or  thickened,  or  loaded 
with  foreign  material,  then  they  fail  to  allow  the 
natural  fluids  to  pass  through  them.  They  fail  to 
dialyse,  and  the  result  is,  either  an  accumulation  of 
the  fluid  in  a  closed  cavity,  or  contraction  of  the 
substance  inclosed  within  the  membrane,  or  dryness 
of  membrane  in  surfaces  that  ought  to  be  freely 
lubricated  and  kept  apart.  In  old  age  we  see  the 
effects  of  modification  of  membrane  naturally  in- 
duced; we  see  the  fixed  joint,  the  shrunken  and 
feeble  muscle,  the  dimmed  eye,  the  deaf  car,  the 
enfeebled  nervous  function. 

"  It  may  possibly  seem,  at  first  sight,  that  I  am 
leading  immediately  away  from  the  subject  of  the 
secondary  action  of  alcohol.  It  is  not  so.  I  am 
leading  directly  to  it.  Upon  all  these  membranous 
structures  alcohol  exerts  a  direct  perversion  of  ac- 
tion. It  produces  in  them  a  thickening,  a  shrink- 
ing and  an  inactivity  that  reduces  their  functional 
power.  That  they  may  work  rapidly  and  equally, 
they  require  to  be  at  all  times  charged  with  water 
to  saturation.  If,  into  contact  with  them,  any  agent 
is  brought  that  deprives  them  of  water,  then  is  their 
work  interfered  with;  they  cease  to  separate  the 
saline  constituents  properly ;  and,  if  the  evil  that  is 
thus  started,  be  allowed  to  continue,  they  contract 
upon  their  contained  matter  in  whatever  organ  it 
may  be  situated,  and  condense  it. 

"  In  brief,  under  the  prolonged  influence  of  alcohol 
those  changes  which  take  "place  from  it  in  the  blood 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

corpuscles,  and  which  have  already  been  described, 
extend  to  the  other  organic  parts,  involving  them  in 
structural  deteriorations,  which  are  always  danger- 
ous, and  are  often  ultimately  fatal." 

ACTION  OF  ALCOHOL  OX  THE  STOMACH. 

Passing  from  the  effect  of  alcohol  upon  the  mem- 
branes, we  come  to  its  action  on  the  stomach.  That 
it  impairs,  instead  of  assisting  digestion,  has  already 
been  shown  in  the  extract  from  Dr.  Monroe,  given 
near  the  commencement  of  the  preceding  chapter.  A 
large  amount  of  medical  testimony  could  be  quoted  in 
corroboration,  but  enough  has  been  educed.  We  shall 
only  quote  Dr.Richardson  on  "Alcoholic  Dyspepsia:" 

"The  stomach,  unable  to  produce,  in  proper  quan- 
tity, the  natural  digestive  fluid,  and  also  unable  to 
absorb  the  food  which  it  may  imperfectly  digest,  is 
in  constant  anxiety  and  irritation.  It  is  oppressed 
with  the  sense  of  nausea;  it  is  oppressed  with  the 
sense  of  emptiness  and  prostration ;  it  is  oppressed 
with  a  sense  of  distention;  it  is  oppressed  with  a 
loathing  for  food,  and  it  is  teased  with  a  craving  for 
more  drink.  Thus  there  is  engendered  a  permanent 
disorder  which,  for  politeness*  sake,  is  called  dys- 
ia,  and  for  which  different  remedies  are  often 
sought  but  never  found.  Antibilious  pills — what- 
ever they  may  mean — Seidlitz  powders,  effervescing 
waters,  and  all  that  pharmacopojia  of  aids  to  further 
indigestion,  in  which  the  afflicted  who  nurse  their 
own  diseases  so  liberally  and  innocently  indulge, 


422  STRONG  DRINK; 

are  tried  in  vain.  I  do  not  strain  a  syllable  when 
I  state  that  the  worst  forms  of  confirmed  indigestion 
originate  in  the  practice  that  is  here  explained.  By 
this  practice  all  the  functions  are  vitiated,  the  skin 
at  one  moment  is  flushed  and  perspiring,  and  at  the 
next  moment  it  is  pale,  cold  and  clammy,  while  every 
other  secreting  structure  is  equally  disarranged." 

TIC-DOULOUREUX  AND  SCIATICA. 

Nervous  derangements  follow  as  a  matter  of  course, 
for  the  delicate  membranes  which  envelope  and  im- 
mediately surround  the  nervous  cords,  are  affected 
by  the  alcohol  more  readily  than  the  coarser  mem- 
branous textures  of  other  parts  of  the  body,  and 
give  rise  to  a  series  of  troublesome  conditions,  which 
are  too  often  attributed  to  other  than  the  true  causes. 
Some  of  these  are  thus  described :  "  The  perverted 
condition  of  the  membranous  covering  of  the  nerves 
gives  rise  to  pressure  within  the  sheath  of  the  nerve, 
and  to  pain  as  a  consequence.  To  the  pain  thus 
excited  the  term  neuralgia  is  commonly  applied,  or 
"  tic ;"  or,  if  the  large  nerve  running  down  the  thigh 
be  the  seat  of  the  pain,  *  sciatica/  Sometimes  this 
pain  is  developed  as  a  toothache.  It  is  pain  com- 
mencing, in  nearly  every  instance,  at  some  point 
where  a  nerve  is  inclosed  in  a  bony  cavity,  or  where 
pressure  is  easily  excited,  as  at  the  lower  jawbone 
near  the  centre  of  the  chin,  or  at  the  opening  in 
front  of  the  lower  part  of  the  ear,  or  at  the  opening 
over  the  eyeball  in  the  frontal  bone." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE,  423 

DEGENERATION'  OF  THE  LIVER. 

The  organic  deteriorations  which  follow  the  long- 
continued  use  of  alcoholic  drinks  are  often  of  a 
serious  and  fatal  character.  The  same  author  says : 
"The  organ  of  the  body,  that,  perhaps,  the  most 
frequently  undergoes  structural  changes  from  alco- 
hol, is  the  liver.  The  capacity  of  this  organ  for 
holding  active  substances  in  its  cellular  parts,  is  one 
of  its  marked  physiological  distinctions.  In  in- 
stances of  poisoning  by  arsenic,  antimony,  strych- 
nine and  other  poisonous  compounds,  we  turn  to 
the  liver,  in  conducting  our  analyses,  as  if  it  were 
the  central  depot  of  the  foreign  matter.  It  is, 
practically,  the  same  in  respect  to  alcohol.  The 
of  the  confirmed  alcoholic  is,  probably,  never 
free  from  the  influence  of  the  poison ;  it  is  too  often 
saturated  with  it.  The  effect  of  the  alcohol  upon 
the  liver  is  upon  the  minute  membranous  or  capsular 
structure  of  the  organ,  upon  which  it  acts  to  prevent 
tin-  proper  dialysis  and  free  secretion.  The  organ, 
at  iii>t,  becomes  large  from  the  distention  of  its 
vessels,  the  surcharge  of  fluid  matter  and  the  thick- 
ening of  tissue.  After  a  time,  there  follows  con- 
traction of  membrane,  and  slow  shrinking  of  the 
whole  mass  of  the  organ  in  its  cellular  parts.  Then 
-hriiiikcn,  hardened,  roughened  mass  is  said  to 
be  'hob-nailed,'  a  common,  but  expressive  term. 
Uy  tlu-  time  this  change  occurs,  the  body  of  him  in 
whom  it  is  <lrvrlo|>ed  is  usually  dropsical  in  its 
lower  parts,  owing  to  the  obstruction  offered  to  the 


424  STRONG  DRINK; 

returning  blood  by  the  veins,  and  liis  fate  is  sealed. 

*  *     *     Again,  under  an  increase  of  fatty  sub- 
stance in  the  body,  the  structure  of  the  liver  may 
be  charged  with  fatty  cells,  and  undergo  what  is 
technically  designated  fatty  degeneration." 

HOW  THE  KIDNEYS  SUFFER. 

"The  kidneys,  also,  suffer  deterioration.  Their 
minute  structures  undergo  fatty  modification ;  their 
vessels  lose  their  due  elasticity  of  power  of  contrac- 
tion ;  or  their  membranes  permit  to  pass  through 
them  the  albumen  from  the  blood.  This  last  con- 
dition reached,  the  body  loses  power  as  if  it  were 
being  gradually  drained  even  of  its  blood. 

CONGESTION  OF  THE  LUNGS. 

"  The  vessels  of  the  lungs  are  easily  relaxed  by 
alcohol ;  and  as  they,  of  all  parts,  are  most  exposed 
to  vicissitudes  of  heat  and  cold,  they  are  readily 
congested  when,  paralyzed  by  the  spirit,  they  are 
subjected  to  the  effects  of  a  sudden  fall  of  atmos- 
pheric temperature.  Thus,  the  suddenly  fatal  con- 
gestions of  lungs  which  so  easily  befall  the  confirmed 
alcoholic  during  the  severe  winter  seasons." 

ORGANIC  DETERIORATIONS  OF  THE  HEART. 

-  The  heart  is  one  of  the  greatest  sufferers  from 
alcohol.     Quoting  again  from  Dr.  Richardson : 

"  The  membranous  structures  which  envelope  and 
line  the  organ  are  changed  in  quality,  are  thickened, 
rendered  cartilaginous,  and  even  calcareous  or  bony. 


THE  CURSE  A\D  THE  CURE.  405 

Then  the  valves,  which  are  made  up  of  folds  of 
membrane,  lose  their  suppleness,  and  what  is  called 
valvular  disease  is  permanently  established.  The 
8  of  the  great  blood-vessel  leading  from  the 
In-art,  the  aorto,  share,  not  unfrequently,  in  the 
same  changes  of  structure,  so  that  the  vessel  loses 
its  elasticity  and  its  power  to  feed  the  heart  by  the 
recoil  from  its  distention,  after  the  heart,  by  its 
stroke,  has  filled  it  with  blood. 

"Airain,  the  muscular  structure  of  the  heart  fails, 
owinic  to  degenerative  changes  in  its  tissue.  The 
elements  of  the  muscular  fibre  are  replaced  by  fatty 
cells;  or,  if  not  so  replaced,  are  themselves  trans- 
ferred into  a  modified  muscular  texture  in  which 
the  power  of  contraction  is  greatly  reduced. 

"  Those  who  suffer  from  these  organic  deteriora- 
tions of  the  central  and  governing  organ  of  the 
(in  illation  of  the  blood  learn  the  fact  so  insidiously, 
it  hardly  breaks  upon  them  until  the  mischief  is  far 
advanced.  They  are,  for  years,  conscious  of  a  cen- 
tral failure  of  power  from  slight  causes,  such  as 
uve i  exertion,  trouble,  broken  rest,  or  too  long 
abstinence  from  food.  They  feel  what  they  call  a 
'sinking/  but  they  know  that  wine  or  some  other 
stimulant  will  at  once  relieve  the  sensation.  Thus 
they  seek  to  relieve  it  until  at  hist  they  discover  that 
the  remedy  fails.  The  jaded,  overworked,  faithful 
heart  will  bear  no  more;  it  has  run  its  course,  and, 
the  governor  of  the  blood-siivams  broken,  the  cur- 
rent either  overflows  into  the  tissues,  gradually 


42G  STRONG  DRINK; 

damming  up  the  courses,  or  under  some  slight  shock 
or  excess  of  motion,  ceases  wholly  at  the  centre." 

EPILEPSY  AND  PAKALYSIS. 

Lastly,  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and  all  the 
nervous  matter,  become,  under  the  influence  of 
alcohol,  subject  alike  to  organic  deterioration  "  The 
membranes  enveloping  the  nervous  substance  un- 
dergo thickening ;  the  blood-vessels  are  subjected 
to  change  of  structure,  by  which  their  resistance 
and  resiliency  is  impaired;  and  the  true  nervous 
matter  is  sometimes  modified,  by  softening  or 
shrinking  of  its  texture,  by  degeneration  of  its 
cellular  structure  or  by  interposition  of  fatty  par- 
ticles. These  deteriorations  of  cerebral  and  spinal 
matter  give  rise  to  a  series  of  derangements,  which 
show  themselves  in  the  worst  forms  of  nervous  dis- 
eases— epilepsy;  paralysis, local  or  general;  insanity." 

We  have  quoted  thus  largely  from  Dr.  Richard- 
son's valuable  lectures,  in  order  that  our  readers 
may  have  an  intelligent  comprehension  of  this  most 
important  subject.  It  is  because  the  great  mass  of 
the  people  are  ignorant  of  the  real  character  of  the 
effects  produced  on  the  body  by  alcohol  that  so 
many  indulge  in  its  use,  and  lay  the  foundation  for 
troublesome,  and  often  painful  and  fatal  diseases  in 
their  later  years. 

In  corroboration  of  Dr.  Richardson's  testimony 
against  alcohol,  we  will,  in  closing  this  chapter,  make 
a  few  quotations  from  other  medical  authorities. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  TEE  CURE.  407 

FARTHER  MEDICAL  TESTIMONY. 

Dr.  Ezra  M.  Hunt  says :  "  The  capacity  of  the 
alcohols  for  impairment  of  functions  and  the  initia- 
tion and  promotion  of  organic  lesions  in  vital  parts, 
is  unsurpassed  by  any  record  in  the  whole  range  of 
medicine.  The  facts  as  to  this  are  so  indisputable, 
ami  so  far  granted  by  the  profession,  as  to  be  no 
longer  debatable.  Changes  in  stomach  and  liver, 
in  kidneys  and  lungs,  in  the  blood-vessels  to  the 
minutest  capillary,  and  in  the  blood  to  the  smallest 
red  and  white  blood  disc  disturbances  of  secretion, 
fibroid  and  fatty  degenerations  in  almost  every 
organ,  impairment  of  muscular  power,  impressions 
so  profound  on  both  nervous  systems  as  to  be  often 
toxic — these,  and  such  as  these,  are  the  oft  mani- 
fested results.  And  these  are  not  confined  to  those 
called  intemperate." 

Professor  Youmans  says :  "  It  is  evident  that,  so 
far  from  being  the  conservator  of  health,  alcohol  is 
an  active  and  powerful  cause  of  disease,  interfering, 
as  it  does,  with  the  respiration,  the  circulation  and 
tin-  nutrition;  now,  is  any  other  result  possible?" 

Dr.  F.  R.  Lees  says :  "  That  alcohol  should  con- 
tribute to  the  fattening  process  under  certain  condi- 
tions, anrl  produce  in  drinkers  fatty  degeneration  of 
the  blood,  follows,  as  a  matter  of  course,  since,  on 
the  one  hand,  we  have  an  agent  that  retains  t/v/x/V 
matter  by  lowering  the  nutritive  and  excretory 
functions,  and  on  the  other,  a  direct  poisoner  of  the 
icles  of  the  vital  stream." 


428  STRONG  DRINK; 

Dr.  Henry  Monroe  says :  "  There  is  no  kind  of 
tissue,  whether  healthy  or  morbid,  that  may  not 
undergo  fatty  degeneration  ;  and  there  is  no  organic 
disease  so  troublesome  to  the  medical  man,  or  so 
difficult  of  cure.  If,  by  the  aid  of  the  miscroscope, 
we  examine  a  very  fine  section  of  muscle  taken  from 
a  person  in  good  health,  we  find  the  muscles  firm, 
elastic  and  of  a  bright  red  color,  made  up  of  parallel 
fibres,  with  beautiful  crossings  or  stria3 ;  but,  if  we 
similarly  examine  the  muscle  of  a  man  who  leads 
an  idle,  sedentary  life,  and  indulges  in  intoxicating 
drinks,  we  detect,  at  once,  a  pale,  flabby,  inelastic, 
oily  appearance.  Alcoholic  narcotization  appears 
to  produce  this  peculiar  conditions  of  the  tissues 
more  than  any  other  agent  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted. 'Three-quarters  of  the  chronic  illness 
which  the  medical  man  has  to  treat,'  says  Dr. 
Chambers,  'are  occasioned  by  this  disease/  The 
eminent  French  analytical  chemist,  Lecanu,  found 
as  much  as  one  hundred  and  seventeen  parts  of  fat 
in  one  thousand  parts  of  a  drunkard's  blood,  the 
highest  estimate  of  the  quantity  in  health  being 
eight  and  one-quarter  parts,  while  the  ordinary 
quantity  is  not  more  than  two  or  three  parts,  so  that 
the  blood  of  the  drunkard  contains  forty  times  in 
excess  of  the  ordinary  quantity." 

Dr.  Hammond,  who  has  written,  in  partial  defense 
of  alcohol  as  containing  a  food  power,  says :  "  When 
I  say  that  it,  of  all  other  causes,  is  most  prolific  in 
exciting  derangements  of  the  brain,  the  spinal  cord 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  409 

and  the  nerves,  I  make  a  statement  which  my  own 
rience  shows  to  be  correct." 

Another  eminent  physician  says  of  alcohol :  "  It 
sul >st it utes  suppuration  for  growth.  *  *  It  helps 
time  to  produce  the  effects  of  age;  and,  in  a  word, 
is  the  genius  of  degeneration." 

1  >r.  Monroe,  from  whom  we  have  already  quoted, 
:  "Alcohol,  taken  in  small  quantities,  or  largely 
diluted,  as  in  the  form  of  beer,  causes- the  stomach 
gradually  to  lose  its  tone,  and  makes  it  dependent 
upon  artificial  stimulus.  Atony,  or  want  of  tone  of 
tomach,  gradually  supervenes,  and  iucurable  dis- 
order of  health  results.  *  *  *  Should  a  dose  of  alco- 
holic drink  be  taken  daily,  the  heart  will  very  often 
become  hypertrophied,  or  enlarged  throughout 
Indeed,  it  is  painful  to  witness  how  many  persons 
are  actually  laboring  under  disease  of  the  heart, 
owing  chiefly  to  the  use  of  alcoholic  liquors." 

Dr.  T.  K.  Chambers,  physician  to  the  Prince  of 
"\VaU-s,  says :  "Alcohol  is  really  the  most  ungenerous 
:!ure  is.  It  impoverishes  the  blood,  and  there 
is  no  surer  road  to  that  degeneration  of  muscular 
libre  so  much  to  bo  feared;  and  in  heart  disease  it 
is  more  especially  hurtful,  by  quickening  the  brat, 
causing  capillary  congestion  and  irregular  circula- 
tion, and  thus  mechanically  inducing  dilatation.' 

Sir  Henry  Thompson,*  distinguished  surgeon, 
says:  "  Don't  take  your  daily  wine  under  any  pretext 
of  its  doing  you  good.  Take  it  frankly  as  a  luxury — 
one  which  must  be  paid  for,  by  some  persons  \ 


430  STRONG  DRINK; 

lightly,  by  some  at  a  high  price,  but  always  to  be 
paid  for.  And,  mostly,  some  loss  of  health,  or  of 
mental  power,  or  of  caimness  of  temper,  or  of 
judgment,  is  the  price." 

Dr.  Charles  Jewett  says :  "  The  late  Prof.  Parks, 
of  England,  in  his  great  work  on  Hygiene,  has 
effectually  disposed  of  the  notion,  long  and  very 
generally  entertained,  that  alcohol  is  a  valuable 
prophylactic  where  a  bad  climate,  bad  water  and 
other  conditions  unfavorable  to  health  exist ;  and 
an  unfortunate  experiment  with  the  article,  in  the 
Union  army,  on  the  banks  of  the  Chickahominy,  in 
the  year  1863,  proved  conclusively  that,  instead  of 
guarding  the  human  constitution  against  the  influ- 
ence of  agencies  hostile  to  health,  its  use  gives  to 
them  additional  force.  The  medical  history  of  the 
British  army  in  India  teaches  the  same  lesson." 

But  why  present  farther  testimony  ?  Is  not  the 
evidence  complete  ?  To  the  man  who  values  good 
health ;  who  would  not  lay  the  foundation  for  dis- 
ease and  suffering  in  his  kter  years,  we  need  not 
offer  a  single  additional  argument  in  favor  of  entire 
abstinence  from  alcoholic  drinks.  He  will  eschew 
them  as  poisons. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IT  CURSES  THE  SOUL. 

physical  disasters  that  follow  the  continued 
-L  use  of  intoxicating  beverages  are  sad  enough, 
and  terrible  enough  ;  but  the  surely  attendant  men- 
tal, moral  and  spiritual  disasters  are  sadder  and  more 
terrible  still.  If  you  disturb  the  healthy  condition  of 
the  brain,  which  is  the  physical  organ  through  which 
the  mind  acts,  you  disturb  the  mind.  It  will  not 
have  the  same  clearness  of  perception  as  before ;  nor 
ha  vi-  the  same  rational  control  over  the  impulses  and 
passions. 

In  what  manner  alcohol  deteriorates  the  body 
and  brain  has  been  shown  in  the  two  preceding 
chapters.  In  this  one  we  purpose  showing  how  the 
curse  goes  deeper  than  the  body  and  brain,  and 
involves  the  whole  man — morally  and  spiritually, 
as  well  as  physically. 

HEAVENLY  ORDER  IN  THE  BODY. 

In  order  to  understand  a  subject  clearly,  certain 
general  laws,  or  principles,  must  be  seen  and  ad- 
mitted. And  here  we  assume,  as  a  general  truth, 
that  health  in  the  human  body  is  normal  heavenly 
order  on  the  physical  plane  of  life,  and  that  any 
431 


432  STRONG  DRINK; 

disturbance  of  that  order  exposes  the  man  to  de- 
structive influences,  which  are  evil  and  infernal  in 
their  character  Above  the  natural  and  physical 
plane,  and  resting  upon  it,  while  man  lives  in  this 
world,  is  the  mental  and  spiritual  plane,  or  degree 
of  life.  This  degree  is  in  heavenly  order  when  the 
reason  is  clear,  and  the  appetites  and  passions  under 
its  wise  control.  But,  if,  through  any  cause,  this 
fine  equipoise  is  disturbed,  or  lost,  then  a  way  is 
opened  for  the  influx  of  more  subtle  evil  influences 
than  such  as  invade  the  body,  because  they  have 
power  to  act  upon  the  reason  and  the  passions,  ob- 
scuring the  one  and  inflaming  the  others. 

MENTAL  DISTURBANCES. 

"We  know  how  surely  the  loss  of  bodily  health 
results  in  mental  disturbance.  'If  the  seat  of  disease 
be  remote  from  the  brain,  the  disturbance  is  usually 
slight ;  but  it  increases  as  the  trouble  comes  nearer 
and  nearer  to  that  organ,  and  shows  itself  in  multi- 
form ways  according  to  character,  temperament  or 
inherited  disposition ;  but  almost  always  in  a  pre- 
dominance of  what  is  evil  instead  of  good.  There 
will  be  fretfulness,  or  ill-nature,  or  selfish  exactions, 
or  mental  obscurity,  or  unreasoning  demands,  or,  it 
may  be,  vicious  and  cruel  propensities,  where,  when 
the  brain  was  undisturbed  by  disease,  reason  held 
rule  with  patience  and  loving  kindness.  If  the 
disease  which  has  attacked  the  brain  goes  on  in- 
creasing, the  mental  disease  which  follows  as  a  con- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  433 

sequence  of  organic  disturbance  or  deterioration, 
will  have  increased  also,  until  insanity  may  be  estab- 
lished in  some  one  or  more  of  its  many  sad  and 
varied  forms. 

INSANITY. 

It  is,  therefore,  a  very  serious  thing  for  a  man  to 
take  into  his  body  any  substance  which,  on  reaching 
that  wonderfully  delicate  organ — the  brain,  sets  up 
therein  a  diseased  action ;  for,  diseased  mental  action 
is  sure  to  follow,  and  there  is  only  one  true  name 
for  mental  disease,  and  that  is  insanity.  A  fever  is 
a  fever,  whether  it  be  light  or  intensely  burning ; 
and  so  any  disturbance  of  the  mind's  rational  equi- 
poise is  insanity,  whether  it  be  in  the  simplest  form 
of  temporary  obscurity,  or  in  the  midnight  of  a 
totally  darkened  intellect. 

We  are  not  writing  in  the  interest  of  any  special 

theory,  nor  in  the  spirit  of  partisanship ;  but  with 

most  desire  to  make  the  truth  appear.     The 

reader  must  not  accept  anything  simply  because  we 

say  it,  but  because  he  sees  it  to  be 'true.     Now,  as  to 

this  matter  of  insanity,  let  him  think  calmly.    The 

word  is  one  that  gives  us  a  shock  ;  and,  as  we  hear 

it,  we  almost  involuntarily  thank  God  for  the  good 

gift  of  a  well-balanced  mind.     "What,  if  from  any 

cause  this  beautiful  equipoise  should  be  disturbed 

and  the  mind  lose  its  power  to  think  clearly,  or  to 

hold  the  lower  passions  in  due  control  ?    Shall  we 

••d  the  truth  if  we  say  that  the  man  in  whom 

this  takes  place  is  insane  just  in  the  degree  that  he 

28 


434  STRONG  DKINK; 

has  lost  his  rational  self-control ;  and  that  he  is 
restored  when  he  regains  that  control  ? 

In  this  view,  the  question  as  to  the  hurtfulness  of 
alcoholic  drinks  assumes  a  new  and  graver  aspect. 
Do  they  disturb  the  brain  when  they  come  in 
contact  with  its  substance;  and  deteriorate  it  if 
the  contact  be  long  continued  ?  Fact,  observation, 
experience  and  scientific  investigation  all  emphati- 
cally say  yes ;  and  we  know  that  if  the  brain  be 
disordered  the  mind  will  be  disordered,  likewise; 
and  a  disordered  mind  is  an  insane  mind.  Clearly, 
then,  in  the  degree  that  a  man  impairs  or  hurts  his 
brain — temporarily  or  continuously — in  that  degree 
his  mind  is  unbalanced ;  in  that  degree  he  is  not  a 
truly  rational  and  sane  man. 

We  are  holding  the  reader's  thought  just  here 
that  he  may  have  time  to  think,  and  to  look  at  the 
question  in  the  light  of  reason  and  common  sense. 
So  far  as  he  does  this,  will  he  be  able  to  feel  the 
force  of  such  evidence  as  we  shall  educe  in  what 
follows,  and  to  comprehend  its  true  meaning. 

NO  SUBSTANCE  AFFECTS  THE  BRAIN  LIKE  ALCOHOL. 

Other  substances  besides  alcohol  act  injuriously 
on  the  brain ;  but  there  is  none  that  compares  with 
this  in  the  extent,  variety  and  diabolical  aspect  of 
the  mental  aberrations  which  follow  its  use.  We 
are  not  speaking  thoughtlessly  or  wildly ;  but  simply 
uttering  a  truth  well-known  to  every  man  of  obser- 
vation, and  which  every  man,  and  especially  those 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  435 

who  take  this  substance  in  any  form,  should  lay 
deeply  to  heart.  Why  it  is  that  such  awful  and 
destructive  forms  of  insanity  should  follow,  as  they 
do,  the  use  of  alcohol  it  is  not  for  us  to  say.  That 
they  do  follow  it,  we  know,  and  we  hold  up  the  fact 
in  solemn  warning. 

INHERITED  LATENT  EVIL  FORCES. 

Another  consideration,  which  should  have  weight 
with  every  one,  is  this,  that  no  man  can  tell  what 
may  be  the  character  of  the  legacy  he  has  received 
from  his  ancestors.  He  may  have  an  inheritance  of 
latent  evil  forces,  transmitted  through  many  gene- 
rations, which  only  await  some  favoring  opportunity 
to  spring  into  life  and  action.  So  long  as  he  main- 
tains a  rational  self-control,  and  the  healthy  order 
of  his  life  be  not  disturbed,  they  may  continue  qui- 
escent ;  but  if  his  brain  loses  its  equipoise,  or  is  hurt 
or  impaired,  then  a  diseased  psychical  condition  may 
be  induced  and  the  latent  evil  forces  be  quickened 
into  life. 

No  substance  in  nature,  as  far  as  yet  known,  has, 
when  it  reaches  the  brain,  such  power  to  induce 

MENTAL  AND  MORAL  CHANGES  OF  A  DISASTROUS 
CHARACTER 

as  alcohol.  Its  transforming  power  is  marvelous, 
and  often  appalling.  It  seems  to  open  a  way  of 
entrance  into  the  soul  for  all  classes  of  foolish,  insane 
or  malignant  spirits,  who,  so  long  as  it  remains  in 
contact  with  the  brain,  are  able  to  hold  possession. 


436  STRONG  DRINK; 

Men  of  the  kindest  nature  when  sober,  act  often 
like  fiends  when  drunk.  Crimes  and  outrages  are 
committed,  which  shock  and  shame  the  perpetrators 
when  the  excitement  of  inebriation  has  passed  away. 
Referring  to  this  subject,  Dr.  Henry  Munroe  says : 
"  It  appears  from  the  experience  of  Mr.  Fletcher, 
who  has  paid  much  attention  to  the  cases  of  drunk- 
ards, from  the  remarks  of  Mr.  Dunn,  in  his '  Medi- 
cal Psychology,'  and  from  observations  of  my  own, 
that  there  is  some  analogy  between  our  physical  and 
psychical  natures ;  for,  as  the  physical  part  of  us, 
when  its  power  is  at  a  low  ebb,  becomes  susceptible 
of  morbid  influences  which,  in  full  vigor,  would  pass 
over  it  without  effect,  so  when  the  psychical  (synony- 
mous with  the  moral)  part  of  the  brain  has  its 
healthy  function  disturbed  and  deranged  by  the 
introduction  of  a  morbid  poison  like  alcohol,  the 
individual  so  circumstanced  sinks  in  depravity,  and 

BECOMES  THE  HELPLESS  SUBJECT  OF  THE  FORCES  OF 

EVIL, 

which  are  powerless  against  a  nature  free  from  the 
morbid  influences  of  alcohol. 

"  Different  persons  are  affected  in  different  ways 
by  the  same  poison.  Indulgence  in  alcoholic  drinks 
may  act  upon  one  or  more  of  the  cerebral  organs ; 
and,  as  its  necessary  consequence,  the  manifestations 
of  functional  disturbance  will  follow  in  such  of  the 
mental  powers  as  these  organs  subserve.  If  the 
indulgence  be  continued,  then,  either  from  deranged 
nutrition  or  organic  lesion,  manifestations  formerly 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  437 

loped  only  during  a  fit  of  intoxication  may  be- 
come permanent,  and  terminate  in  insanity  or  dyp- 
somania.  M.  Flourens  first  pointed  out  the  fact 
that  certain  morbific  agents,  when  introduced  into 
the  current  of  the  circulation,  tend  to  act  primarily 
and  itjH'cidlfi/  on  one  nervous  centre  in  preference  to 
that  of  another,  by  virtue  of  some  special  elective 
affinity  between  such  morbific  agents  and  certain 
ganglia.  Thus,  in  the  tottering  gait  of  the  tipsy 
man,  we  see  the  influence  of  alcohol  upon  the  func- 
tions of  the  cerebellum  in  the  impairment  of  its 
power  of  co-ordinating  the  muscles. 

"  Certain  writers  on  diseases  of  the  mind  make 
especial  allusion  to  that  form  of  insanity  termed 
DYPSOMANIA,  in  which  a  person  has  an  unquenchable 
thirst  for  alcoholic  drinks — a  tendency  as  decidedly 
maniacal  as  that  of  homicidal  mania  ;  or  the  uncon- 
tn (liable  desire  to  burn,  termed  pyromania  ;  or  to 
steal,  called  kleptomania. 

HOMICIDAL  MANIA. 

"The  different  tendencies  of  homicidal  mania  in 
di  fll-rent  individuals  are  often  only  nursed  into  action 
when  the  current  of  the  blood  has  been  poisoned 
with  alcohol.  I  had  a  case  of  a  person  who,  whcn- 

his  brain  was  so  excited,  told  me  that  he  t 

rirnced  a  most  uncontrollable  desire  to  kill  or  injure 

some  one ;  so  much  so,  that  he  could  at  times  hardly 

restrain  himself  from  the  action,  and  was  obliged  to 

in  from  all  stimulants,  lest,  in  an  unlucky  mo- 


438  STRONG  DRINK; 

ment,  he  might  commit  himself.  Townley,  who 
murdered  the  young  lady  of  his  affections,  for  which 
he  was  sentenced  to  be  imprisoned  in  a  lunatic  asy- 
lum for  life,  poisoned  his  brain  with  brandy  a-nd 
soda-water  before  he  committed  the  rash  act.  The 
brandy  stimulated  into  action  certain  portions  of  the 
brain,  which  acquired  such  a  power  as  to  subjugate 
his  will,  and  hurry  him  to  the  performance  of  a 
frightful  deed,  opposed  alike  to  his  better  judgment 
and  his  ordinary  desires. 

"As  to  pyromania,  some  years  ago  I  knew  a 
laboring  man  in  a  country  village,  who,  whenever 
he  had  had  a  few  glasses  of  ale  at  the  public-house, 
would  chuckle  with  delight  at  the  thought  of  firing 
certain  gentlemen's  stacks.  Yet,  when  his  bruin 
was  free  from  the  poison,  a  quieter,  better-disposed 
man  could  not  be.  Unfortunately,  he  became  ad- 
dicted to  habits  of  intoxication ;  and,  one  night, 
under  alcoholic  excitement,  fired  some  stacks  be- 
longing to  his  employers,  for  which  he  was  sentenced 
for  fifteen  years  to  a  penal  settlement,  where  his 
brain  would  never  again  be  alcoholically  excited. 

KLEPTOMANIA. 

"Next,  I  will  give  an  example  of  kleptomania. 
I  knew,  many  years  ago,  a  very  clever,  industrious 
and  talented  young  man,  who  told  me  that  when- 
ever he  had  been  drinking,  he  could  hardly  with- 
stand the  temptation  of  stealing  anything  that  came 
in  his  way ;  but  that  these  feelings  never  troubled 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  439 

him  at  other  times.  One  afternoon,  after  he  had 
been  indulging  with  his  fellow-workmen  in  drink, 
his  will,  unfortunately,  was  overpowered,  and  he 
took  from  the  mansion  where  he  was  working  some 
articles  of  worth,  for  which  he  was  accused,  and 
afterwards  sentenced  to  a  term  of  imprisonment. 
When  set  at  liberty  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  be 
placed  among  some  kind-hearted  persons,  vulgarly 
called  teetotallers;  and,  from  conscientious  motives, 
signed  the  PLEDGE,  now  above  twenty  years  ago. 
From  that  time  to  the  present  moment  he  has  never 
experienced  the.  overmastering  desire  which  so  often 
beset  him  in  his  drinking  days — to  take  that  which 
was  not  his  own.  Moreover,  no  pretext  on  earth  could 
now  entice  him  to  taste  of  any  liquor  containing 
alcohol,  feeling  that,  under  its  influence,  he  might 
ai;ain  fall  its  victim.  He  holds  an  influential  posi- 
tion in  the  town  where  he  resides. 

"  I  have  known  some  ladies  of  good  position  in 
society,  who,  after  a  dinner  or  supper-party,  and 
after  having  taken  sundry  glasses  of  wine,  could  not 
withstand  the  temptation  of  taking  home  any  little 
article  not  their  own,  when  the  opportunity  offered; 
and  who,  in  their  sober  moments,  have  returned 
till-in,  as  if  taken  by  mistake.  We  have  many 
i ices  recorded  in  our  police  reports  of  gentlemen 
-ition,  under  the  influence  of  drink,  committing 
thefts  of  the  most  paltry  articles,  afterwards  returned 
to  the  owners  by  their  friends,  which  can  only  be 
accounted  for,  psychologically,  by  the  fact  that  the. 


440  STRONG  DRINK; 

will  had  been  for  the  time  completely  overpowered 
by  the  subtle  influence  of  alcohol. 

LOSS  OF  MENTAL  CLEARNESS. 

"  That  alcohol,  whether  taken  in  large  or  small 
doses,  immediately  disturbs  the  natural  functions  of 
the  mind  and  body,  is  now  conceded  by  the  most 
eminent  physiologists.  Dr.  Brinton  says :  *  Mental 
acuteness,  accuracy  of  conception,  and  delicacy  of 
the  senses,  are  all  so  far  opposed  by  the  action  of 
alcohol,  as  that  the  maximum  efforts  of  each  are 
incompatible  with  the  ingestion  of  any  moderate 
quantity  of  fermented  liquid.  Indeed,  there  is 
scarcely  any  calling  which  demands  skillful  and 
exact  effort  of  mind  and  body,  or  which  requires 
the  balanced  exercise  of  many  faculties,  that  does 
not  illustrate  this  rule.  The  mathematician,  the 
gambler,  the  metaphysician,  the  billiard-player,  the 
author,  the  artist,  the  physician,  would,  if  they 
could  analyze  their  experience  aright,  generally 
concur  in  the  statement,  that  a  single  glass  will 
often  suffice  to  take,  so  to  speak,  the  edge  off  both 
mind  and  body,  and  to  reduce  their  capacity  to 
something  below  what  is  relatively  their  perfection 
of  work.' 

"  Not  long  ago,  a  railway  train  was  driven  care- 
lessly into  one  of  the  principal  London  stations, 
running  into  another  train,  killing,  by  the  collision, 
six  or  seven  persons,  and  injuring  many  others. 
From  the  evidence  at  the  inquest,  it  appeared  that 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CUKE.  44^ 

unr.l  was  reckoned  sober,  only  he  had  had  fim 
glasses  of  ale  with  a  friend  at  a  previous  station. 
X<>\v,  reasoning  psychologically,  these  two  glasses  of 
ale  had  probably  been  instrumental  in  taking  off 
the  edge  from  his  perceptions  and  prudence,  and 
producing  a  carelessness  or  boldness  of  action  which 
would  not  have  occurred  under  the  cooling,  tem- 
perate influence  of  a  beverage  free  from  alcohol. 
Many  persons  have  admitted  to  me  that  they  were 
not  the  same  after  taking  even  one  glass  of  ale  or 
wine  that  they  were  before,  and  could  not  thorovy/tly 
trust  themselvesafterthey  hud  taken  this  single  glass." 

IMPAIRMENT  OF  MEMORY. 

An  impairment  of  the  memory  is  among  the  early 
symptoms  of  alcoholic  derangement. 

"  This,"  says  Dr.  Richardson,  "  extends  even  to 
forgetfulness  of  the  commonest  things ;  to  names  of 
familiar  persons,  to  dates,  to  duties  of  daily  life. 
Strangely,  too,"  he  adds,  "this  failure,  like  that 
which  indicates,  in  the  aged,  the  era  of  second 
childishness  and  mere  oblivion,  does  not  extend  to 
the  tilings  of  the  past,  but  is  confined  to  events  that 
an-  passing.  On  old  memories  the  mind  retains  its 
power;  on  new  ones  it  requires  constant  prompting 
and  sustainment." 

In  this,  failure  of  memory  nature  gives  a  solemn 
warning  that  immiiu'iit  peril  is  at  hand.  Well 
l«>r  tho  habitual  drinker  if  he  heed  the  warn- 
ing. Should  he  nut  do  so,  symptoms  of  a  more 


442  STEONO  DRINK; 

serious  character  will,  in  time,  develop  themselves, 
as  the  brain  becomes  more  and  more  diseased, 
ending,  it  may  be,  in  permanent  insanity. 

MENTAL  AND  MOEAL  DISEASES. 

Of  the  mental  and  moral  diseases  which  too  often 
follow  the  regular  drinking  of  alcohol,  we  have 
painful  records  in  asylum  reports,  in  medical  testi- 
mony and  in  our  daily  observation  and  experience. 
These  are  so  full  and  varied,  and  thrust  so  con- 
stantly on  our  attention,  that  the  wonder  is  that 
men  are  not  afraid  to  run  the  terrible  risks  involved 
even  in  what  is  called  the  moderate  use  of  alcoholic 
beverages. 

In  1872,  a  select  committee  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, appointed  "  to  consider  the  best  plan  for  the 
control  and  management  of  habitual  drunkards," 
called  upon  some  of  the  most  eminent  medical  men 
in  Great  Britain  to  give  their  testimony  in  answer 
to  a  large  number  of  questions,  embracing  every 
topic  within  the  range  of  inquiry,  from  the  pathology 
of  inebriation  to  the  practical  usefulness  of  prohib- 
itory laws.  In  this  testimony  much  was  said  about 
the  effect  of  alcoholic  stimulation  on  the  mental  con- 
dition and  moral  character.  One  physician,  Dr. 
James  Crichton  Brown,  who,  in  ten  years'  experi- 
ence as  superintendent  of  lunatic  asylums,  has  paid 
special  attention  to  the  relations  of  habitual  drunken- 
ness to  insanity,  having  carefully  examined  five  hun- 
dred cases,  testified  that  alcohol,  taken  in  excess,  pro- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  443 

duccd  different  forms  of  mental  disease,  of  which  he 
mentioned  four  classes :  1.  Mania  a  potu,  or  alcoholic 
mania.  2.  The  monomania  of  suspicion.  3.  Chronic 
alcoholism,  characterized  by  failure  of  the  mem- 
ory and  power  of  judgment,  with  partial  paralysis 
— generally  ending  fatally.  4.  Dypsomania,  or  an 
irresistible  craving  for  alcoholic  stimulants,  occur- 
ing  very  frequently,  paroxysmally,  and  with  con- 
stant liability  to  periodical  exacerbations,  when  the 
craving  becomes  altogether  uncontrollable.  Of  this 
latter  form  of  disease,  he  says:  "This  is  invariably 
associated  with  a  certain  impairment  of  the  intellect, 
and  of  the  affection*  and  the  moral pov 

Dr.  Alexander  Peddie,  a  physician  of  over 
thirty-seven  years'  practice  in  Edinburgh,  gave,  in 
his  evidence,  many  remarkable  instances  of  the 
moral  perversions  that  followed  continued  drinking. 

RELATION  BETWEEN  INSANITY  AND  DRUNKENNESS. 

Dr.  John  Nugent  said  that  his  experience  of 
twenty-six  years  among  lunatics,  led  him  to  believe 
that  there  is  a  very  close  relation  between  the 
results  of  the  abuse  of  alcohol  and  insanity.  The 
population  of  Ireland  had  decreased,  he  said,  two 
millions  in  twenty-five  years,  but  there  was  the 
same  amount  of  insanity  now  that  there  was  before. 
1  Ir  attributed  this,  in  a  great  measure,  to  indulgence 
in  drink. 

Dr.  Arthur  Mitchell,  Commissioner  of  Lunacy 
for  Scotland,  testified  that  the  excessive  use  of 


444  STRONG  DRINK; 

alcohol  caused  a  large  amount  of  the  lunacy,  crime 
and  pauperism  of  that  country.  In  some  men,  he 
said,  habitual  drinking  leads  to  other  diseases  than 
insanity,  because  the  effect  is  always  in  the  direction 
of  the  proclivity,  but  it  is  certain  that  there  are 
many  in  whom  there  is  a  clear  proclivity  to  in- 
sanity, who  would  escape  that  dreadful  consumma- 
tion but  for  drinking;  excessive  drinking  in  many 
persons  determining  the  insanity  to  which  they  are, 
at  any  rale,  predisposed.  The  children  of  drunkards, 
he  further  said,  are  in  a  larger  proportion  idiotic  than 
other  children,  and  in  a  larger  proportion  become 
themselves  drunkards;  they  are  also  in  a  larger 
proportion  liable  to  the  ordinary  forms  of  acquired 
insanity. 

Dr.  Winslow  Forbes  believed  that  in  the  ha- 
bitual drunkard  the  whole  nervous  structure,  and 
the  brain  especially,  became  poisoned  by  alcohol. 
All  the  mental  symptoms  which  you  see  accompa- 
nying ordinary  intoxication,  he  remarks,  result  from 
the  poisonous  effects  of  alcohol  on  the  brain.  It  is 
the  brain  which  is  mainly  effected.  In  temporary 
drunkenness,  the  brain  becomes  in  an  abnormal 
state  of  alimentation,  and  if  this  habit  is  persisted 
in  for  years,  the  nervous  tissue  itself  becomes  per- 
meated with  alcohol,  and  organic  changes  take  place 
in  the  nervous  tissues  of  the  brain,  producing  that 
frightful  and  dreadful  chronic  insanity  which  we  see 
in  lunatic  asylums,  traceable  entirely  to  habits  of 
intoxication.  A  large  percentage  of  frightful  mental 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  445 

and  brain  disturbances  can,  lie  declared,  be  traced 
to  the  drunkenness  of  parents. 

Dr.  D.  G.  Dodge,  late  of  the  New  York  State 
Inebriate  Asylum,  "who,  with  Dr.  Joseph  Parrish, 

re  testimony  before  the  committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  said,  in  one  of  his  answers :  "  With 
the  excessive  use  of  alcohol,  functional  disorder  will 
invariably  appear,  and  no  organ  will  be  more  seri- 
ously affected,  and  possibly  impaired,  than  the.  brain. 
This  is  shown  in  the  inebriate  by  a  weakened  intcl- 

f,  a  general  debility  of  the  mental  faculties,  a 

partial  or  total  loss  of  self-respect,  and  a  departure 

of  the  power  of  self-command ;  all  of  which,  acting 

together,  place  the  victim  at  the  mercy  of  a  depraved 

and  morbid  appetite,  and  make  him  utterly  power- 

1.  — ,  by  his  own  unaided  efforts,  to  secure  his  recov- 

iYoni  the  disease  which  is  destroying  him."  And 

Ids :  "  I  am  of  opinion  that  there  is  a 

GBEAT  SDIILARITY   BETWEEN  INEBRIETY  AND 
INSANITY. 

I  am  decidedly  of  opinion  that  the  former  has  taken 
I 'lace  in  the  family  of  diseases  as  prominently  as 
its  twin-brother  insanity ;  and,  in  my  opinion,  the 
day  is  not  far  distant  when  the  pathology  of  the 
mer  will  be  as  fully  understood  and  as  successfully 
treated  as  the  latter,  and  even  more  successfully, 
since  it  is  more  within  the  reach  and  bounds  of 
human  control,  which,  wisely  exercised  and  scien- 
tific-ally administered,  may  prevent  curable  inebria- 
tion from  verging  into  possible  incurable  insanity." 


446  STRONG  DRINK; 

GENERAL  IMPAIRMENT  OF  THE  FACULTIES. 

In  a  more  recent  lecture  than  the  one  from  which 
we  have  quoted  so  freely,  Dr.  Richardson,  speaking 
of  the  action  of  alcohol  on  the  mind,  gives  the  fol- 
lowing sad  picture  of  its  ravages : 

"  An  analysis  of  the  condition  of  the  mind  in- 
duced and  maintained  by  the  free  daily  use  of  alco- 
hol as  a  drink,  reveals  a  singular  order  of  facts. 
The  manifestation  fails  altogether  to  reveal  the 
exaltation  of  any  reasoning  power  in  a  useful  or 
satisfactory  direction.  I  have  never  met  with  an 
instance  in  which  such  a  claim  for  alcohol  has  been 
made.  On  the  contrary,  confirmed  alcoholics  con- 
stantly say  that  for  this  or  that  work,  requiring 
thought  and  attention,  it  is  necessary  to  forego  some 
of  the  usual  potations  in  order  to  have  a  cool  head 
for  hard  work. 

"  On  the  other  side,  the  experience  is  overwhelm- 
ingly in  favor  of  the  observation  that  the  use  of 

ALCOHOL  SELLS  THE  REASONING  POWERS, 

make  weak  men  and  women  the  easy  prey  of  the 
wicked  and  strong,  and  leads  men  and  women  who 
should  know  better  into  every  grade  of  misery  and 
vice.  *  *  *  If,  then,  alcohol  enfeebles  the 
reason,  what  part  of  the  mental  constitution  does  it 
exalt  and  excite  ?  It  excites  and  exalts  those  animal, 
organic,  emotional  centres  of  mind  which,  in  the 
dual  nature  of  man,  so  often  cross  and  oppose  that 
pure  and  abstract  reasoning  nature  which  lifts  man 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  447 

above  the  lower  animals,  and  rightly  exercised,  little 
lower  than  the  angels. 

IT  EXCITES  MAN'S  WORST  PASSIONS. 

"  Exciting  these  animal  centres,  it  lets  loose  all  the 
passions,  and  gives  them  more  or  less  of  unlicensed 
dominion  over  the  man.  It  excites  anger,  and  when 
it  does  not  lead  to  this  extreme,  it  keeps  the  mind 
fretful,  irritable,  dissatisfied  and  captious.  *  *  * 
And  if  I  were  to  take  you  through  all  the  passions, 
love,  hate,  lust,  envy,  avarice  and  pride,  I  should 
but  show  you  that  alcohol  ministers  to  them  all ; 
that,  paralyzing  the  reason,  it  takes  from  off  these 
ions  that  fine  adjustment  of  reason,  which  places 
man  above  the  lower  animals.  From  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  its  influence  it  subdues  reason  and 
sets  the  passions  free.  The  analogies,  physical  and 
iiK-ntal,  are  perfect.  That  which  loosens  the  tension 
of  the  vessels  which  feed  the  body  with  due  order 
and  precision,  and,  thereby,  lets  loose  the  heart  to 
violent  excess  and  unbridled  motion,  loosens,  also, 
the  reason  and  lets  loose  the  passion.  In  both  in- 
stances, heart  and  head  are,  for  a  time,  out  of  har- 
mony ;  their  balance  broken.  The  man  descends 
closer  and  closer  to  the  lower  animals.  From  the 
angels  he  glides  farther  and  farther  away. 

A  SAD  AND  TERRIBLE  PICTURE. 

"The  destructii <  cir« cts  of  alcohol  on  the  human 
mind  present,  iinally,  the  saddest  picture  of  its  in- 


448  STRONG  DRINK; 

fluence.  The  most  aesthetic  artist  can  find  no  angel 
here.  All  is  animal,  and  animal  of  the  worst  type. 
Memory  irretrievably  lost,  words  and  very  elements 
of  speech  forgotten  or  words  displaced  to  have  no 
meaning  in  them.  Rage  and  anger  persistent  and 
mischievous,  or  remittent  and  impotent.  Fear  at 
every  corner  of  life,  distrust  on  every  side,  grief 
merged  into  blank  despair,  hopelessness  into  per- 
manent melancholy.  Surely  no  Pandemonium  that 
ever  poet  dreamt  of  could  equal  that  which  would 
exist  if  all  the  drunkards  of  the  world  were  driven 
into  one  mortal  sphere. 

"As  I  have  moved  among  those  who  are  physi- 
cally stricken  with  alcohol,  and  have  detected  under 
the  various  disguises  of  name  the  fatal  diseases,  the 
pains  and  penalties  it  imposes  on  the  body,  the 
picture  has  been  sufficiently  cruel.  But  even  that 
picture  pales,  as  I  conjure  up,  without  any  stretch 
of  imagination,  the  devastations  which  the  same 
agent  inflicts  on  the  mind.  Forty  per  cent.,  the 
learned  Superintendent  of  Colney  Hatch,  Dr.  Shep- 
pard,  tells  us,  of  those  who  were  brought  into  that 
asylum  in  1876,  were  so  brought  because  of  the 
direct  or  indirect  effects  of  alcohol.  If  the  facts  of  all 
the  asylums  were  collected  with  equal  care,  the  same 
tale  would,  I  fear,  be  told.  What  need  we  further 
to  show  the  destructive  action  on  the  human  mind  ? 
The  Pandemonium  of  drunkards ;  the  grand  trans- 
formation scene  of  that  pantomime  of  drink  which 
commences  with  moderation !  Let  it  never  more  be 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  449 

forgotten  by  those  who  love  their  fellow-men  until, 
through  their  efforts,  it  is  closed  forever." 

We  might  go  on,  adding  page  after  page  of  evi- 
dence, showing  how  alcohol  curses  the  souls,  as  well 
as  the  bodies,  of  men ;  but  enough  has  been  educed 
to  force  conviction  on  the  mind  of  every  reader  not 
already  satisfied  of  its  poisonous  and  destructive 
quality. 

How  light  are  all  evils  flowing  from  intemperance 
compared  with  those  which  it  thus  inflicts  on  man's 
higher  nature.  "  What,"  says  Dr.  W.  E.  Channing, 
"  is  the  great  essential  evil  of  intemperance  ?  The 
reply  is  given,  when  I  say,  that  intemperance  is  the 

VOLUNTARY  EXTINCTION  OF  REASON. 

The  great  evil  is  inward  or  spiritual.  The  intem- 
perate man  divests  himself,  for  a  time,  of  his  rational 
and  moral  nature,  casts  from  himself  self-conscious- 
ness and  self-command,  brings  on  frenzy,  and  by 
repetition  of  this  insanity,  prostrates  more  and  more 
liis  rational  and  moral  powers.  He  sins  immedi- 
ately and  directly  against  the  rational  nature,  that 
Divine  principle  which  distinguishes  between  truth 
and  falsehood,  between  right  and  wrong  action, 
which  distinguishes  man  from  the  brute.  This  is  the 
essence  of  the  vice,  what  constitutes  its  peculiar 
guilt  and  woe,  and  what  should  particularly  impress 
an  1  awaken  those  who  are  laboring  for  its  suppression. 
Other  evils  of  intemperance  are  light  compared  with 
this,  ami  almost  all  flow  from  this;  and  it  is  right, 
29 


450  STRONG  DRINK; 

it  is  to  be  desired  that  all  other  evils  should  be 
joined  with  and  follow  this.  It  is  to  be  desired, 
when  a  man  lifts  a  suicidal  arm  against  his  higher 
life,  when  he  quenches  reason  and  conscience,  that 
he  and  all  others  should  receive  solemn,  startling 
warning  of  the  greatness  of  his  guilt ;  that  terrible 
outward  calamities  should  bear  witness  to  the  in- 
ward ruin  which  he  is  working;  that  the  hand- 
writing of  judgment  and  woe  on  his  countenance, 
form  and  whole  condition,  should  declare  what  a 
fearful  thing  it  is  for  a  man,  "  God's  rational  off- 
spring, to  renounce  his  reason,  and  become  a  brute." 


CHAPTER  V. 

NOT  A  FOOD,  AND  VERY  LIMITED  IN  ITS  RANGE  AS  A 
MEDICINE. 


use  of  alcohol  as  a  medicine  has  been  very 
large.  If  his  patient  was  weak  and  nervous, 
the  physician  too  often  ordered  wine  or  ale  ;  or,  not 
taking  the  trouble  to  refer  his  own  case  to  a  physi- 
cian, the  invalid  prescribed  these  articles  for  himself. 
If  there  was  a  failure  of  appetite,  its  restoration  was 
sought  in  the  use  of  one  or  both  of  the  above-named 
forms  of  alcohol;  or,  perhaps,  adopting  a  more 
heroic  treatment,  the  sufferer  poured  brandy  or 
whisky  into  his  weak  and  sensitive  stomach.  Pro- 
tection from  cold  was  sought  in  a  draught  of  some 
alcoholic  beverage,  and  relief  from  fatigue  and  ex- 
haustion in  the  use  of  the  same  deleterious  substance. 
Indeed,  there  is  scarcely  any  form  of  bodily  ailment 
or  discomfort,  or  mental  disturbance,  for  the  relief 
of  which  a  resort  was  not  had  to  alcohol  in  some  one 
of  its  many  forms. 

It  is  fair  to  say  that,  as  a  medicine,  its  consump- 
tion has  far  exceeded  that  of  any  other  substance 
prescribed  and  taken  for  physical  and  mental  de- 
rangements. 

The  inquiry,  then,  as  to  the  true  remedial  value 
401 


452  STRONG  DRINK; 

of  alcohol  is  one  of  the  gravest  import ;  and  it  is  of 
interest  to  know  that  for  some  years  past  the  medi- 
cal profession  has  been  giving  this  subject  a  careful 
and  thorough  investigation.  The  result  is  to  be 
found  in  the  brief  declaration  made  by  the  Section 
on  Medicine,  of  the 

INTERNATIONAL  MEDICAL  CONGRESS, 

which  met  in  Philadelphia  in  1876.  This  body 
was  composed  of  about  six  hundred  delegates,  from 
Europe  and  America,  among  them,  some  of  the  ablest 
men  in  the  profession.  Realizing  the  importance  of 
some  expression  in  relation  to  the  use  of  alcohol, 
medical  and  otherwise,  from  this  Congress,  the  Na- 
tional Temperance  Society  laid  before  it,  through 
its  President,  W.  E.  Dodge, -and  Secretary,  J.  N. 
Sfeearns,  the  following  memorial : 

"  The  National  Temperance  Society  sends  greet- 
ing, and  respectfully  invites  from  your  distinguished 
body  a  public  declaration  to  the  effect  that  alcohol 
should  be  classed  with  other  powerful  drugs ;  that, 
when  prescribed  medicinally,  it  should  be  with  con- 
scientious caution  and  a  sense  of  grave  responsibility; 
that  it  is  in  no  sense  food  to  the  human  system ;  that 
its  improper  use  is  productive  of  a  large  amount  of 
physical  disease,  tending  to  deteriorate  the  human 
race ;  and  to  recommend,  as  representatives  of  en- 
lightened science,  to  your  several  nationalities,  total 
abstinence  from  alcoholic  beverages." 

In*  response  to  this  memorial,  the  president  of 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  453 

the  society  received  from  J.  Ewing  Hears,  M.  D., 
Secretary  of  the  Section  on  Medicine,  International 
Congress,  the  following  official  letter,  under  date  of 
September  9th,  1876 : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  am  instructed  by  the  Section  on 
Medicine,  International  Medical  Congress,  of  1876, 
to  transmit  to  you,  as  the  action  of  the  Section,  the 
following  conclusions  adopted  by  it  with  regard  to 
the  use  of  alcohol  in  medicine,  the  same  being  in 
reply  to  the  communication  sent  by  the  National 
Temperance  Society. 

"  1.  Alcohol  is  not  shown  to  have  a  definite  food 
value  by  any  of  the  usual  methods  of  chemical 
analysis  or  physiological  investigation. 

"  2.  Its  use  as  a  medicine  is  chiefly  that  of  a  car- 
diac stimulant,  and  often  admits  of  substitution. 

"3.  As  a  medicine,  it  is  not  well  fitted  for  self- 
prescription  by  the  laity,  and  the  medical  profession 
is  not  accountable  for  such  administration,  or  for  the 
enormous  evils  arising  therefrom. 

"  4.  The  purity  of  alcoholic  liquors  is,  in  general, 
not  as  well  assured  as  that  of  articles  used  for  niedi- 
cine  should  be.  The  various  mixtures,  when  used 
as  medicine,  should  have  definite  and  known  com- 
position, and  should  not  be  interchanged  promiscu- 
ou>ly." 

The  reader  will  see  in  this  no  hesitating  or  half- 
way speech.  The  declaration  is  strong  and  clear,  that, 
as  a  food,  alcohol  is  not  shown,  when  subjected  to  the 
usual  method  of  chemical  or  physiological  investi- 


454  STKONQ  DRINK; 

gation,  to  have  any  food  value ;  and  that,  as  a 
medicine,  its  use  is  chiefly  confined  to  a  cardiac 
stimulant,  and  often  admits  of  substitution. 

A  declaration  like  this,  coming,  as  it  does,  from  a 
body  of  medical  men  representing  the  most  advanced 
ideas  held  by  the  profession,  must  have  great  weight 
with  the  people.  But  we  do  not  propose  resting  on 
this  declaration  alone.  As  it  was  based  on  the  re- 
sults of  chemical  and  physiological  investigations, 
let  us  go  back  of  the  opinion  expressed  by  the 
Medical  Congress,  and  examine  these  results,  in 
order  that  the  ground  of  its  opinion  may  become 
apparent. 

There  was  presented  to  this  Congress,  by  a  dis- 
tinguished physician  of  New  Jersey,  Dr.  Ezra  M. 
Hunt,  a  paper  on  "  Alcohol  as  a  Food  and  Medi- 
cine," in  which  the  whole  subject  is  examined  in 
the  light  of  the  most  recent  and  carefully-conducted 
experiments  of  English,  French,  German  and  Amer- 
ican chemists  and  physiologists,  and  their  conclu- 
sions, as  well  as  those  of  the  author  of  the  paper, 
set  forth  in  the  plainest  manner.  This  has  since 
been  published  by  the  National  Temperance  Society, 
and  should  be  read  and  carefully  studied  by  every 
one  who  is  seeking  for  accurate  information  on  the 
important  subject  we  are  now  considering.  It  is 
impossible  for  us  to  more  than  glance  at  the  evidence 
brought  forward  in  proof  of  the  assertion  that 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  455 

ALCOHOL  HAS  NO  FOOD  VALUE, 

and  is  exceedingly  limited  in  its  action  as  a  remedial 
agent ;  and  we,  therefore,  urge  upon  all  who  are 
interested  in  this  subject,  to  possess  themselves  of 
Dr.  Hunt's  exhaustive  treatise,  and  to  study  it  care- 
fully. 

If  the  reader  will  refer  to  the  quotation  made  by 
us  in  the  second  chapter  from  Dr.  Henry  Monroe, 
where  the  food  value  of  any  article  is  treated  of,  he 
will  see  it  stated  that  "  every  kind  of  substance  em- 
ployed by  man  as  food  consists  of  sugar,  starch,  oil 
and  glutinous  matter,  mingled  together  in  various 
proportions ;  these  are  designed  for  the  support  of 
the  animal  frame.  The  glutinous  principles  of 
food — fibrine,  albumen  and  casein — are  employed 
to  build  up  the  structure ;  while  the  oil,  starch  and 
sugar  are  chiefly  used  to  generate  heat  in  the  body." 

Now,  it  is  clear,  that  if  alcohol  is  a  food,  it  will 
be  found  to  contain  one  or  more  of  these  substances. 
There  must  be  in  it  either  the  nitrogenous  elements 
found  chiefly  in  meats,  eggs,  milk,  vegetables  and 
seeds,  out  of  which  animal  tissue  is  built  and  waste 
repaired ;  or  the  carbonaceous  elements  found  in  fat, 
starch  and  sugar,  in  the  consumption  of  which  heat 
and  force  are  evolved. 

"  The  distinctness  of  these  groups  of  foods,"  says 
Dr.  Hunt,  "  and  their  relations  to  the  tissue-pro- 
ducing and  heat-evolving  capacities  of  man,  are  so 
definite  and  so  continued  by  experiments  on  animals 


456  STRONG  DRINK- 

and  by  manifold  tests  of  scientific,  physiological 
and  clinical  experience,  that  no  attempt  to  discard 
the  classification  has  prevailed.  To  draw  so  straight 
a  line  of  demarcation  as  to  limit  the  one  entirely  to 
tissue  or  cell  production,  and  the  other  to  heat  and 
force  production  through  ordinary  combustion,  and 
to  deny  any  power  of  interchangeability  under 
special  demands  or  amid  defective  supply  of  one 
variety,  is,  indeed,  untenable.  This  does  not  in  the 
least  invalidate  the  fact  that  we  are  able  to  use  these 
as  ascertained  landmarks." 

How  these  substances,  when  taken  into  the  body, 
are  assimilated,  and  how  they  generate  force,  are 
well  known  to  the  chemist  and  physiologist,  who  is 
able,  in  the  light  of  well-ascertained  laws,  to  deter- 
mine whether  alcohol  does  or  does  not  possess  a  food 
value.  For  years,  the  ablest  men  in  the  medical 
profession  have  given  this  subject  the  most  careful 
study,  and  have  subjected  alcohol  to  every  known 
test  and  experiment,  and  the  result  is  that  it  has 
been,  by  common  consent,  excluded  from  the  class 
of  tissue-building  foods.  "We  have  never,"  says 
Dr.  Hunt,  "seen  but  a  single  suggestion  that  it 
could  so  act,  and  this  a  promiscuous  guess.  One 
writer  (Hammond)  thinks  it  possible  that  it  may 
'somehow'  enter  into  combination  with  the  products 
of  decay  in  tissues,  and  *  under  certain  circumstan- 
ces might  yield  their  nitrogen  to  the  construction  of 
new  tissues.'  No  parallel  in  organic  chemistry,  nor 
any  evidence  in  animal  chemistry,  can  be  found  to 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  457 

surround  this  guess  with  the  arcola  of  a  possible 
hypothesis." 

Dr.  Richardson  says:  "Alcohol  contains  no  ni- 
trogen ;  it  has  none  of  the  qualities  of  structure- 
luiilding  foods ;  it  is  incapable  of  being  transformed 
into  any  of  them ;  it  is,  therefore,  not  a  food  in  any 
sense  of  its  being  a  constructive  agent  in  building 
up  the  body."  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  says:  "Al- 
cohol cannot  supply  anything  which  is  essential  to 
the  true  nutrition  of  the  tissues."  Dr.  Liebig  says : 
"  Beer,  wine,  spirits,  etc.,  furnish  no  element  capable 
of  entering  into  the  composition  of  the  blood,  mus- 
cular fibre,  or  any  part  which  is  the  seat  of  the 
principle  of  life."  Dr.  Hammond,  in  his  Tribune 
Lectures,  in  which  he  advocates  the  use  of  alcohol 
in  certain  cases,  says:  " It  is  not  demonstrable  that 
alr<  )hol  undergoes  conversion  into  tissue."  Cameron, 
in  his  Manuel  of  Hygiene,  says  :  "  There  is  nothing 
in  alcohol  with  which  any  part  of  the  body  can  be 
nourished."  Dr.  E.  Smith,  F.R.S.,  says:  "Alcohol 
is  not  a  true  food.  It  interferes  with  alimenta- 
tion." Dr.  T.  K.  Chambers  says :  "  It  is  clear  that 
we  must  cease  to  regard  alcohol,  as  in  any  sense,  a 
food." 

"  Not  detecting  in  this  substance,"  says  Dr.  Hunt, 
"any  tissue-making  ingredients,  nor  in  its  breaking 
up  any  combinations,  such  as  we  are  able  to  tract-  in 
the  cell  foods,  nor  any  evidence  either  in  the  expe- 
rience of  physiologists  or  the  trials  of  alimrntarians, 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  in  it  we  should  lind  m-itluT 


458  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  expectancy  nor  the  realization  of  constructive 
power." 

Not  finding  in  alcohol  anything  out  of  which  the 
body  can  be  built  up  or  its  waste  supplied,  it  is  next 
to  be  examined  as  to  its  heat-producing  quality, 

ALCOHOL  NOT  A  PRODUCER  OF  HEAT. 

"The  first  usual  test  for  a  force-producing  food," 
says  Dr.  Hunt,  "  and  that  to  which  other  foods  of 
that  class  respond,  is  the  production  of  heat  in  the 
combination  of  oxygen  therewith.  This  heat  means 
vital  force,  and  is,  in  no  small  degree,  a  measure  of 
the  comparative  value  of  the  so-called  respiratory 
foods.  *  *  *  If  we  examine  the  fats,  the  starches 
and  the  sugars,  we  can  trace  and  estimate  the  pro- 
cesses by  which  they  evolve  heat  and  are  changed 
into  vital  force,  and  can  weigh  the  capacities  of 
different  foods.  We  find  that  the  consumption  of 
carbon  by  union  with  oxygen  is  the  law,  that  heat 
is  the  product,  and  that  the  legitimate  result  is  force, 
while  the  result  of  the  union  of  the  hydrogen  of  the 
foods  with  oxygen  is  water.  If  alcohol  comes  at  all 
under  this  class  of  foods,  we  rightly  expect  to  find 
some  of  the  evidences  which  attach  to  the  hydro- 
carbons." 

What,  then,  is  the  result  of  experiments  in  this 
direction  ?  They  have  been  conducted  through  long 
periods  and  with  the  greatest  care,  by  men  of  the 
highest  attainments  in  chemistry  and  physiology, 
and  the  result  is  given  in  these  few  words,  by  Dr. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  45Q 

II.  II.  Wood,  Jr.,  in  his  Materi  Medica.  "No  one 
has  been  able  to  detect  in  the  blood  any  of  the  ordi- 
nary results  of  its  oxidation."  That  is,  no  one  has 
been  able  to  find  that  alcohol  has  undergone  corn- 
ion,  like  fat,  or  starch,  or  sugar,  and  so  given 
heat  to  the  body.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  now  known 
and  admitted  by  the  medical  profession  that 

ALCOHOL  REDUCES  THE  TEMPERATURE  OF  THE  BODY, 

instead  of  increasing  it ;  and  it  has  even  been  used 
in  fevers  as  an  anti-pyretic.  So  uniform  has  been 
the  testimony  of  physicians  in  Europe  and  this 
country  as  to  the  cooling  effects  of  alcohol,  that  Dr. 

<1  says,  in  his  Materia  Medica,  "  that  it  does  not 
seem  worth  while  to  occupy  space  with  a  discussion 
of  the  subject."  Liebermeister,  one  of  the  most 
learned  contributors  to  Zeimssen's  Cyclopaedia  of 
the  Practice  of  Medicine,  1875,  says :  "  I  long  since 
o,n \i IK  i'd  myself,  by  direct  experiments,  that  alco- 
hol, even  in  comparatively  large  doses,  does  not 
elevate  the  temperature  of  the  body  in  either  well 
or  sick  people."  So  well  had  this  become  known 
to  Arctic  voyagers,  that,  even  Jbefore  physiologists 
had  drnnm.-t  rated  the  fact  that  alcohol  reduced,  in- 
stead of  increasing,  the  temperature  of  the  body, 
they  had  learned  that  spirits  lessened  their  power  to 
withstand  extreme  cold.  "  In  the  Northern  regions/' 

Edward  Smith,  "  it  was  proved  that  the  entire 
exclusion  of  spirits  was  necessary,  in  order  to  retain 
heat  under  these  unfavorable  conditions." 


460  STRONG  DRINK; 

ALCOHOL  DOES  NOT  GIVE  STRENGTH. 

If  alcohol  does  not  contain  tissue-building  mnto- 
rial,  nor  give  heat  to  the  body,  it  cannot  possibly 
add  to  its  strength.  "Every  kind  of  power  an 
animal  can  generate,"  says  Dr.  G.  Budd,  F.  R.  S., 
"  the  mechanical  power  of  the  muscles,  the  chemical 
(or  digestive)  power  of  the  stomach,  the  intellectual 
power  of  the  brain — accumulates  through  the  nutri- 
tion of  the  organ  on  which  it  depends/  Dr.  F. 
R.  Lees,  of  Edinburgh,  after  discussing  the  question, 
and  educing  evidence,  remarks :  "  From  the  very 
nature  of  things,  it  will  now  be  seen  how  impossible 
it  is  that  alcohol  can  be  strengthening  food  of  either 
kind.  Since  it  cannot  become  apart  of  the  body,  it 
cannot  consequently  contribute  to  its  cohesive,  or- 
ganic strength,  or  fixed  power ;  and,  since  it  comes 
out  of  the  body  just  as  it  went  in,  it  cannot,  by  its 
decomposition,  generate  heat-force" 

Sir  Benjamin  Brodie  says :  "  Stimulants  do  not 
create  nervous  power ;  they  merely  enable  you,  as  it 
were,  to  use  up  that  which  is  left,  and  then  they 
leave  you  more  in  need  of  rest  than  before." 

Baron  Liebig,  so  far  back  as  1843,  in  his  "Animal 
Chemistry,"  pointed  out  the  fallacy  of  alcohol  gener- 
ating power.  He  says :  "  The  circulation  will  appear 
accelerated  at  the  expense  of  the  force  available  for 
voluntary  motion,  but  without  the  production  of  a 
greater  amount  of  mechanical  force."  In  his  later 
"  Letters,"  he  again  says :  "  Wine  is  quite  super- 
fluous to  man,  *  *  *  it  is  constantly  followed  by 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 


0  expenditure  of  power"  —  whereas,  the  real  func- 
tion of  food  is  to  give  power.     He  adds:   "These 
drinks  promote  the  change  of  matter  in  the  body, 
and  are,  consequently,  attended  by  an  inward  loss 
of  j)ower,  which  ceases  to  be  productive,  because  it 
is  not  employed  in  overcoming  outward  difficulties  — 
i.  e.t  in   working."      In   other   words,   this  great 
chemist  asserts  that  alcohol  abstracts  the  power  of 
the  system  from  doing  useful  work  in  the  field  or 
workshop,  in  order  to  cleanse  the  house  from  the 
defilement  of  alcohol  itself. 

The  late  Dr.  W.  Brinton,  Physician  to  St. 
Thomas',  in  his  great  work  on  Dietetics,  says: 
refill  observation  leaves  little  doubt  that  a 
moderate  dose  of  beer  or  wine  would,  in  most  cases, 
at  once  diminish  the  maximum  weight  which  a 
healthy  person  could  lift.  Mental  acuteness,  accu- 
racy of  perception  and  delicacy  of  the  senses  are  all 
so  far  opposed  by  alcohol,  as  that  the  maximum 
efforts  of  each  are  incompatible  with  the  ingestion 
of  any  moderate  quantity  of  fermented  liquid.  A 
single  glass  will  often  suffice  to  take  the  edge  off 
both  mind  and  body,  and  to  reduce  their  capacity 
to  something  below  their  perfection  of  work." 

1  >r.  F.  R.  Lees,  F.  S.  A.,  writing  on  the  subject 
of  alcohol  as  a  food,  makes  the  following  quotation 
from  an  essay  on  "Stimulating  Drinks,"  published 

>r.  II.  R.  Madden,  as  long  ago  as  1847  :  "Alco- 
hol is  not  the  natural  stimulus  to  any  of  our  organs, 
and  hence,  functions  performed  in  consequence  of 


462  STRONG  DRINK; 

its  application,  tend  to  debilitate  the  organ  acted 
upon. 

"Alcohol  is  incapable  of  being  assimilated  or 
converted  into  any  organic  proximate  principle,  and 
hence,  cannot  be  considered  nutritious. 

"  The  strength  experienced  after  the  use  of  alco- 
hol is  not  new  strength  added  to  the  system,  but  is 
manifested  by  calling  into  exercise  the  nervous 
energy  pre-existing. 

"  The  ultimate  exhausting  effects  of  alcohol,  owing 
to  its  stimulant  properties,  produce  an  unnatural 
susceptibility  to  morbid  action  in  all  the  organs,  and 
this,  with  the  plethora  superinduced,  becomes  a  fer- 
tile source  of  disease. 

"A  person  who  habitually  exerts  himself  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  require  the  daily  use  of  stimulants 
to  ward  off  exhaustion,  may  be  compared  to  a  ma- 
chine working  under  high  pressure.  He  will  become 
much  more  obnoxious  to  the  causes  of  disease,  and 
will  certainly  break  down  sooner  than  he  would  have 
done  under  more  favorable  circumstances. 

"  The  more  frequently  alcohol  is  had  recourse  to 
for  the  purpose  of  overcoming  feelings  of  debility, 
the  more  it  will  be  required,  and  by  constant  repeti- 
tion a  period  is  at  length  reached  when  it  cannot  be 
foregone,  unless  reaction  is  simultaneously  brought 
about  by  a  temporary  total  change  of  the  habits  of  life. 

"  Owing  to  the  above  facts,  I  conclude  that  the 

DAILY  USE  OF  STIMULANTS  IS  INDEFENSIBLE  UNDER 
ANY  KNOWN  CIKCUMSTANCES." 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUE  CURE.  4(53 

DRIVEN  TO  THE  WALL. 

Not  finding  that  alcohol  possesses  any  direct  ali- 
mentary value,  the  medical  advocates  of  its  use  have 
been  driven  to  the  assumption  that  it  is  a  kind  of 
secondary  food,  in  that  it  has  the  power  to  delay  the 
metamorphosis  of  tissue  "  By  the  metamorphosis 
of  tissue  is  meant,"  says  Dr.  Hunt,  "  that  change 
which  is  constantly  going  on  in  the  system  which 
involves  a  constant  disintegration  of  material ;  a 
breaking  up  and  avoiding  of  that  which  is  no  longer 
aliment,  making  room  for  that  new  supply  which  is 
to  sustain  life."  Another  medical  writer,  in  refer- 
ring to  this  metamorphosis,  says :  "  The  importance 
of  this  process  to  the  maintenance  of  life  is  readily 
shown  by  the  injurious  effects  which  follow  upon  its 
disturbance.  If  the  discharge  of  the  excrementi- 
tious  substances  be  in  any  way  impeded  or  suspended, 
these  substances  accumulate  either  in  the  blood  or 
tiasues,  or  both.  In  consequence  of  this  retention 
and  accumulation  they  become  poisonous,  and  rap- 
idly produce  a  derangement  of  the  vital  functions. 
Their  influence  is  principally  exerted  upon  the 
nervous  system,  through  which  they  produce  most 
frequent  irritability,  disturbance  of  the  special  senses, 
delirium,  insensibility,  coma,  and  finally,  death." 

"This  description,"  remarks  Dr.  Hunt,  "seems 
:  1 1  m  i  >.-•  t  i  n  1 1  •  1 1 ded  for  alcohol ."  He  then  says :  "  To 
claim  alcohol  as  a  fowl  because  it  delays  the  meta- 
morphosis of  tissue,  is  to  claim  that  it  in  some  way 
suspends  the  normal  conduct  of  the  laws  of  assimi- 


4G4  STliONG  DRIXK; 

lation  and  nutrition,  of  waste  and  repair.  A  leading 
advocate  of  alcohol  (Hammond)  thus  illustrates  it : 
'Alcohol  retards  the  destruction  of  the  tissues.  By 
this  destruction,  force  is  generated,  muscles  contract, 
thoughts  are  developed,  organs  secrete  and  excrete.' 
In  other  words,  alcohol  interferes  with  all  these.  No 
wonder  the  author  '  is  not  clear '  how  it  does  this, 
and  we  are  not  clear  how  such  delayed  metamor- 
phosis recuperates.  To  take  an  agent  which  is 

NOT  KNOWN  TO  BE  IN  ANY  SENSE  AN  ORIGINATOR  OF 
VITAL  FORCE; 

which  is  not  known  to  have  any  of  the  usual  power 
of  foods,  and  use  it  on  the  double  assumption  that 
it  delays  metamorphosis  of  tissue,  and  that  such 
delay  is  conservative  of  health,  is  to  pass  outside  of 
the  bounds  of  science  into  the  land  of  remote  pos- 
sibilities, and  confer  the  title  of  adjuster  upon  an 
agent  whose  agency  is  itself  doubtful. 

"Having  failed  to  identify  alcohol  as  a  nitrogenous 
or  non-nitrogenous  food,  not  having  found  it  amen- 
able to  any  of  the  evidences  by  which  the  food-force 
of  aliments  is  generally  measured,  it  will  not  do  for 
us  to  talk  of  benefit  by  delay  of  regressive  meta- 
morphosis unless  such  process  is  accompanied  with 
something  evidential  of  the  fact — something  sci- 
entifically descriptive  of  its  mode  of  accomplishment 
in  the  case  at  hand,  and  unless  it  is  shown  to  be 
practically  desirable  for  alimentation. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  alcohol  does  cause 


TUB  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  455 

'.*  in  the  processes  of  elimination  which  are 
natural  to  the  healthy  body  and  which  even  in  dis- 
ease are  often  conservative  of  health.  In  the  pent- 
in  evils  which  pathology  so  often  shows  occurrent 
in  the  case  of  spirit-drinkers,  in  the  vascular,  fatty 
and  fibroid  degenerations  which  take  place,  in  the 
accumulations  of  rheumatic  and  scrofulous  tenden- 
cies, there  is  the  strongest  evidence  that 

ALCOHOL  ACTS  AS  A  DISTURBING  ELEMENT 

and  is  very  prone  to  initiate  serious  disturbances 
amid  the  normal  conduct  both  of  organ  and  func- 
tion. 

"  To  assert  that  this  interference  is  conservative 
in  the  midst  of  such  a  fearful  accumulation  of  evi- 
dence as  to  result  in  quite  the  other  direction,  and 
that  this  kind  of  delay  in  tissue-change  accumulates 
vital  force,  is  as  unscientific  as  it  is  paradoxical. 

"  Dickinson,  in  his  able  expose  of  the  effects  of 
alcohol,  (Lancet,  Nov.,  1872,)  confines  himself  to 
pathological  facts.  After  recounting,  with  accuracy, 
the  structural  changes  which  it  initiates,  and  the 
structural  changes  and  consequent  derangement  and 
suspension  of  vital  functions  which  it  involves,  he 
aptly  terms  it  the  'genius  of  degeneration.' 

"  With  abundant  provision  of  indisputable  foods, 
select  that  liquid  which  has  failed  to  command  the 
general  assent  of  experts  that  it  is  a  food  at  all,  and 
because  it  is  claimed  to  diminish  some  of  the  excre- 
tions, call  that  a  delay  of  metamorphosis  of  tissue 
30 


466  STRONG  DRINK; 

conservative  of  health !  The  ostrich  may  bury  his 
head  in  the  sand,  but  science  will  not  close  its  eyes 
before  such  impalpable  dust." 

Speaking  of  this  desperate  effort  to  claim  alcohol 
as  a  food,  Dr.  N.  S.  Davis  well  says :  "  It  seems 
hardly  possible  that  men  of  eminent  attainments  in 
the  profession  should  so  far  forget  one  of  the  most 
fundamental  and  universally  recognized  laws  of  or- 
ganic life  as  to  promulgate  the  fallacy  here  stated. 
The  fundamental  law  to  which  we  allude  is,  that  all 
vital  phenomena  are  accompanied  by,  and  dependent 
on,  molecular  or  atomic  changes;  and  whatever 
retards  these  retards  the  phenomena  of  life ;  what- 
ever suspends  these  suspends  life.  Hence,  to  say 
that  an  agent  which  retards  tissue  metamorphosis  is 
in  any  sense  a  food,  is  simply  to  pervert  and  mis- 
apply terms." 

Well  may  the  author  of  the  paper  from  which 
we  have  quoted  so  freely,  exclaim :  "  Strangest  of 
foods !  most  impalpable  of  aliments !  defying  all  the 
research  of  animal  chemistry,  tasking  all  the  in- 
genuity of  experts  in  hypothetical  explanations, 
registering  its  effects  chiefly  by  functional  disturb- 
ance and  organic  lesions,  causing  its  very  defenders 
as  a  food  to  stultify  themselves  when  in  fealty  to 
facts  they  are  compelled  to  disclose  its  destructions, 
and  to  find  the  only  defense  in  that  line  of  demar- 
cation, more  imaginary  than  the  equator,  more 
delusive  than  the  mirage,  between  use  and  abuse." 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  457 

That  alcohol  is  not  a  food  in  any  sense,  has  been 
fully  shown ;  and  now, 

WHAT  IS  ITS  VALUE  AS  A  MEDICINE? 

Our  reply  to  this  question  will  be  brief.  The  reader 
already,  the  declaration  of  the  International 
Medical  Congress,  that,  as  a  medicine,  the  range  of 
alcohol  is  limited  and  doubtful,  and  that  its  self- 
prescription  by  the  laity  should  be  utterly  discoun- 
tenanced by  the  profession.  No  physician  who  has 
madu  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  effects 
of  alcohol  when  introduced  into  the  blood  and 
brought  in  contact  with  the  membranes,  nerves  and 
organs  of  the  human  body,  would  now  venture  to 
prescribe  its  free  use  to  consumptives  as  was  done 
a  very  few  years  ago. 

"  In  the  whole  management  of  lung  diseases," 
remarks  Dr.  Hunt,  "  with  the  exception  of  the  few 
wlio  can  always  be  relied  upon  to  befriend  alcohol, 
other  remedies  have  largely  superseded  all  spirituous 
liquors.  Its  employment  in  stomach  disease,  once 
so  popular,  gets  no  encouragement,  from  a  careful 
examination  of  its  local  and  constitutional  effects, 
as  separated  from  the  water,  sugar  and  acids  imbibed 

with  it." 

TYPHOID  FEVER. 

It  is  in  typhoid  fever  that  alcohol  has  been  used, 

perhaps,  most  frequently  by  the  profession ;  but  this 

•  now  restricted,  and  the  administration  made 

with  great  caution.     Prof.  A.  L.  Loomis,  of  New 


468  STEONG  DRINK; 

York  City,  has  published  several  lectures  on  the 
pathology  and  treatment  of  typhoid  fever.  Refer- 
ring thereto,  Dr.  Hunt  says:  "No  one  in  our  country 
can  speak  more  authoritatively,  and  as  he  has  no 
radical  views  as  to  the  exclusion  of  alcohol,  it  is  worth 
while  to  notice  the  place  to  which  he  assigns  it.  In 
the  milder  cases  he  entirely  excludes  it.  As  a 
means  of  reducing  temperature,  he  does  not  mention 
it,  but  relies  on  cold,  quinine,  and  sometimes,  digi- 
talis and  quinine."  When,  about  the  third  week, 
signs  of  failure  of  heart-power  begin  to  manifest 
themselves,  and  the  use  of  some  form  of  stimulant 
seems  to  be  indicated,  Dr.  Loomis  gives  the  most 
guarded  advice  as  to  their  employment.  "  Never," 
he  says,  "  give  a  patient  stimulants  simply  because 
he  has  typhoid  fever."  And  again,  "  Where  there 
is  reasonable  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of  giving  or 
withholding  stimulants,  it  is  safer  to  withhold  them." 
He  then  insists  that,  if  stimulants  are  administered, 
the  patient  should  be  visited  every  two  hours  to 
watch  their  effects. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  how  guarded  has  now  become 
th*e  use  of  alcohol  as  a  cardiac  stimulant  in  typhoid 
fevers,  where  it  was  once  employed  with  an  almost 
reckless  freedom.  Many  practitioners  have  come  to 
exclude  it  altogether,  and  to  rely  wholly  on  ammo- 
nia, ether  and  foods. 

In  Cameron's  "Hygiene"  is  this  sentence:  "In 
candor,  it  must  be  admitted  that  many  eminent 
physicians  deny  the  efficacy  of  alcohol  in  the  treat- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

ment  of  any  kind  of  disease,  and  some  assert  that  it 
is  worse  than  useless" 

ACCUMULATIVE  TESTIMONY. 

Dr.  Arnold  Lees,  F.  L.  S.,  in  a  recent  paper  on 
the  "  Use  and  Action  of  Alcohol  in  Disease,"  as- 
sumes "  that  the  old  use  of  alcohol  was  not  science, 
but  a  grave  blunder"  Prof.  C.  A.  Parks  says :  "  It 
is  impossible  not  to  feel  that,  so  far,  the  progress  of 
physiological  inquiry  renders  the  use  of  alcohol 
(in  medicine)  more  and  more  doubtful."  Dr.  Anstie 
says :  "  If  alcohol  is  to  be  administered  at  all  for  the 
rt-liff  of  neuralgia,  it  should  be  given  with  as  much 
precision,  as  to  dose,  as  we  should  use  in  giving  an 
acknowledged  deadly  poison."  Dr.  F.  T.  Roberts, 
an  eminent  English  physician,  in  advocating  a 
guarded  use  of  alcohol  in  typhoid  fever,  says: 
"Alcoholic  stimulants  are,  by  no  means,  always  re- 
quired, and  their  indiscriminate  use  may  do  a  great 
deal  of  harm."  In  Asiatic  cholera,  brandy  was 
formerly  administered  freely  to  patients  when  in 
the  stage  of  collapse.  The  effect  was  injurious, 
id  of  beneficial.  "Again  and  again,"  says 
Prof.  G.  Johnson,  "have  I  seen  a  patient  grow 
colder,  and  his  pulse  diminish  in  volume  and  power, 
after  a  dose  of  brandy,  and,  apparently,  as  a  direct 
result  of  the  brandy."  And  Dr.  Pidduck,  of  Lon- 
don, who  used  common  salt  in  cholera,  treatment, 
says :  "  Of  eighty-six  cases  in  the  stage  of  collapse, 
sixteen  only  proved  fatal,  and  scarcely  one  would 


470  STRONG  DRINK,- 

have  died,  if  I  had  been  able  to  prevent  them  from 
taking  brandy  and  laudanum."  Dr.  Collenette,  of 
Guernsey,  says :  "For  more  than  thirty  years  I  have 
abandoned  the  use  of  all  kinds  of  alcoholic  drinks 
in  my  practice,  and  with  such  good  results,  that, 
were  I  sick,  nothing  would  induce  me  to  have  re- 
source to  them — they  are  but  noxious  depressants." 

As  a  non-professional  writer,  we  cannot  go  be- 
yond the  medical  testimony  which  has  been  educed, 
and  we  now  leave  it  with  the  reader.  We  could 
add  many  pages  to  this  testimony,  but  such  cumu- 
lative evidence  would  add  but  little  to  its  force  with 
the  reader.  If  he  is  not  yet  convinced  that  alcohol 
has  no  food  value,  and  that,  as  a  medicine,  its  range 
is  exceedingly  limited,  and  always  of  doubtful  ad- 
ministration, nothing  further  that  we  might  be  able 
to  cite  or  say  could  have  any  influence  with  him. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  GROWTH  AND  POWER  OF  APPETITE. 

ONE  fact  attendant  on  habitual  drinking  stands 
out  so  prominently  that  none  can  call  it  in 
question.  It  is  that  of  the  steady  growth  of  appe- 
tite. There  are  exceptions,  as  in  the  action  of  nearly 
every  rule ;  but  the  almost  invariable  result  of  the 
Imbit  we  have  mentioned,  is,  as  we  have  said,  a 
steady  growth  of  appetite  for  the  stimulant  imbibed. 
That  this  is  in  consequence  of  certain  morbid 
changes  in  the  physical  condition  produced  by  the 
alcohol  itself,  will  hardly  be  questioned  by  any  one 
who  has  made  himself  acquainted  with  the  various 
functional  and  organic  derangements  which  invaria- 
bly follow  the  continued  introduction  of  this  sub- 
stance into  the  body. 

But  it  is  to  the  fact  itself,  not  to  its  cause,  that  we 
now  wish  to  direct  the  reader's  attention.  The  man 
who  is  satisfied  at  first  with  a  single  glass  of  wine 
at  dinner,  finds,  after  awhile1,  that  appetite  asks  for 
a  little  more ;  and,  in  time,  a  second  glass  is  con- 
iv.lrd.  The  increase  of  desire  may  be  very  slow, 
but  it  goes  on  surely  until,  in  the  end,  a  whole 
bottle  will  scarcely  suffice,  with  far  too  many,  to 
meet  its  imperious  demands.  It  is  the  same  in 
471 


472  STRONG  DRINK; 

regard  to  the  use  of  every  other  form  of  alcoholic 
drink. 

Now,  there  are  men  so  constituted  that  they  are 
able,  for  a  long  series  of  years,  or  even  for  a 
whole  lifetime,  to  hold  this  appetite  within  a  certain 
limit  of  indulgence.  To  say  "  So  far,  and  no  far- 
ther." They  suffer  ultimately  from  physical  ail- 
ments, which  surely  follow  the  prolonged  contact  of 
alcoholic  poison  with  the  delicate  structures  of 
the  body,  many  of  a  painful  character,  and  shorten 
the  term  of  their  natural  lives ;  but  still  they  are 
able  to  drink  without  an  increase  of  appetite  so 
great  as  to  reach  an  overmastering  degree.  They 
do  not  become  abandoned  drunkards. 

NO  MAN  SAFE  WHO  DRINKS. 

But  no  man  who  begins  the  use  of  alcohol  in  any 
form  can  tell  what,  in  the  end,  is  going  to  be  its 
effect  on  his  body  or  mind.  Thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands,  once  wholly  unconscious  of  danger  from 
this  source,  go  down  yearly  into  drunkards'  graves. 
There  is  no  standard  by  which  any  one  can  measure 
the  latent  evil  forces  in  his  inherited  nature.  He 
may  have  from  ancestors,  near  or  remote,  an  un- 
healthy moral  tendency,  or  physical  diathesis,  to 
which  the  peculiarly  disturbing  influence  of  alcohol 
will  give  the  morbid  condition  in  which  it  will  find 
its  disastrous  life.  That  such  results  follow  the  use 
of  alcohol  in  a  large  number  of  cases,  is  now  a  well- 
known  fact  in  the  history  of  inebriation.  During 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  473 

the  past  few  years,  the  subject  of  alcoholism,  with 
the  mental  and  moral  causes  leading  thereto,  have 
attracted  a  great  deal  of  earnest  attention.  Physi- 
cians, superintendents  of  inebriate  and  lunatic  asy- 
lums, prison-keepers,  legislators  and  philanthropists 
have  been  observing  and  studying  its  many  sad  and 
terrible  phases,  and  recording  results  and  opinions. 
While  differences  are  held  on  some  points,  as,  for 
instance,  whether  drunkenness  is  a  disease  for  which, 
after  it  has  been  established,  the  individual  ceases 
to  be  responsible,  and  should  be  subject  to  restraint 
and  treatment,  as  for  lunacy  or  fever;  a  crime  to  be 
punished ;  or  a  sin  to  be  repented  of  and  healed 
by  the  Physician  of  souls,  all  agree  that  there  is 
an  inherited  or  acquired  mental  and  nervous  condi- 
tion with  many,  which  renders  any  use  of  alcohol 
exceedingly  dangerous. 

The  point  we  wish  to  make  with  the  reader  is, 
that  no  man  can  possibly  know,  until  he  has  i 
alcoholic  drinks  for  a  certain  period  of  time,  whether 
he  has  or  has  not  this  hereditary  or  acquired  physi- 
cal or  mental  condition ;  and  that,  if  it  should  exist, 
a  discovery  of  the  fact  may  come  too  late. 

Dr.  D.  G.  Dodge,  late  Superintendent  of  the 
New  York  State  Inebriate  Asylum,  speaking  of  the 
causes  leading  to  intemperance,  after  stating  his 
belief  that  it  is  a  transmissible  disease,  like  "scrofula, 
gout  or  consumption,"  says: 

"  Thciv  arc  men  who  have  an  organization,  which 
may  be  termed  an  alcoholic  idiosyncrasy  ;  with  them 


474  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  latent  desire  for  stimulants,  if  indulged,  soon  leads 
to  habits  of  intemperance,  and  eventually  to  a  morbid 
appetite,  which  has  all  the  characteristics  of  a  dis- 
eased condition  of  the  system,  which  the  patient, 
unassisted,  is  powerless  to  relieve — since  the  weak- 
ness of  the  will  that  led  to  the  disease  obstructs  its 
removal. 

"Again,  we  find  in  another  class  of  persons,  those 
who  have  had  healthy  parents,  and  have  been 
educated  and  accustomed  to  good  social  influences, 
moral  and  social,  but  whose  temperament  and 
physical  constitution  are  such,  that,  when  they 
once  indulge  in  the  use  of  stimulants,  which  they 
find  pleasurable,  they  continue  to  habitually  indulge 
till  they  cease  to  be  moderate,  and  become  excessive 
drinkers.  A  depraved  appetite  is  established,  that 
leads  them  on  slowly,  but  surely,  to  destruction." 

A  DANGEROUS  DELUSION. 

In  this  chapter,  our  chief  purpose  is  to  show  the 
growth  and  awful  power  of  an  appetite  which  begins 
striving  for  the  mastery  the  moment  it  is  indulged, 
and  against  the  encroachments  of  which  no  man 
who  gives  it  any  indulgence  is  absolutely  safe.  He 
who  so  regards  himself  is  resting  in  a  most  danger- 
ous delusion.  So  gradually  does  it  increase,  that  few 
observe  its  steady  accessions  of  strength  until  it  has 
acquired  the  power  of  a  master.  Dr.  George  M. 
Burr,  in  a  paper  on  the  pathology  of  drunkenness, 
read  before  the  "American  Association  for  the  Cure 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  47.-, 

of  Inebriates,"  says,  in  referring  to  the  first  indica- 
tions of  an  appetite,  which  he  considers  one  of  the 
symptoms  of  a  forming  disease,  says:  "This  early 
stage  is  marked  by  an  occasional  desire  to  drink, 
which  recurs  at  shorter  and  shorter  intervals,  and  a 
propensity,  likewise,  gradually  increasing  for  a 
greater  quantity  at  each  time.  This  stage  has  long 
been  believed  to  be  one  of  voluntary  indulgence, 
for  which  the  subject  of  it  was  morally  responsible. 
The  drinker  has  been  held  as  criminal  for  his  occa- 
sional indulgence,  and  his  example  has  been  most 
severely  censured.  This  habit,  however,  must  be 
rded  as  the  first  intimation  of  the  approaching 
disease — the  stage  of  invasion,  precisely  as  sensa- 
tions of  mal-aise  and  chills  usher  in  a  febrile  attack. 
"  It  is  by  no  means  claimed  that  in  this  stage  the 
subject  is  free  from  responsibility  as  regards  the 
consequences  of  his  acts,  or  that  his  case  is  to  be 
looked  upon  as  beyond  all  attempts  at  reclamation. 
Quite  to  the  contrary.  This  is  the  stage  for  active 
interference.  Restraint,  prohibition,  quarantine, 
anything  may  be  resorted  to,  to  arrest  the  farther 
advance  of  the  disease.  Instead  of  being  taught 
that  the  habit  of  occasional  drinking  is  merely  a 
moral  lapsus  (not  the  most  powerful  restraining 
motive  always),  the  subject  of  it  should  be  made  to 
understand  that  it  is  the  commencement  of  a  malady, 
whieh,  if  unchecked,  will  overwhelm  him  in  ruin, 
and,  compared  with  which,  cholera  and  yellow  1 
are  harmless.  He  should  be  impressed  with  the 


476  STRONG  DRINK; 

fact  that  the  early  stage  is  the  one  when  recupera- 
tion is  most  easy — that  the  will  then  has  not  lost 
its  power  of  control,  and  that  the  fatal  propensity 
is  not  incurable.  The  duty  of  prevention,  or  avoid- 
ance, should  be  enforced  with  as  much  earnestness 
and  vigor  as  we  are  required  to  carry  out  sanitary 
measures  against  the  spread  of  small-pox  or  any 
infectious  disease.  The  subject  of  inebriety  may  be 
justly  held  responsible,  if  he  neglects  all  such  efforts, 
and  allows  the  disease  to  progress  without  a  struggle 
to  arrest  it. 

"  The  formative  stage  of  inebriety  continues  for  a 
longer  or  shorter  period,  when,  as  is  well  known, 
more  frequent  repetitions  of  the  practice  of  drink- 
ing are  to  be  observed.  The  impulse  to  drink 
grows  stronger  and  stronger,  the  will-power  is  over- 
thrown and  the  entire  organism  becomes  subject  to 
the  fearful  demands  for  stimulus.  It  is  now  that 
the  stage  of  confirmed  inebriation  is  formed,  and 
dypso-mania  fully  established.  The  constant  in- 
troduction of  alcohol  into  the  system,  circulating 
with  the  fluids  and  permeating  the  tissues,  adds 
fuel  to  the  already  enkindled  flame,  and  intensifies 
the  propensity  to  an  irresistible  degree.  Nothing 
now  satisfies  short  of  complete  intoxication,  and, 
until  the  unhappy  subject  of  the  disease  falls  sense- 
less and  completely  overcome,  will  he  cease  his 
efforts  to  gratify  this  most  insatiable  desire." 

Dr.  Alexander  Peddie,  of  Edinburgh,  who  has 
given  twenty  years  of  study  to  this  subject,  remarked, 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  477 

in  his  testimony  before  a  Committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  that  there  seemed  to  be  "  a  peculiar 
elective  affinity  for  the  action  of  alcohol  on  the 
nervous  system  after  it  had  found  its  way  through 
the  circulation  into  the  brain,"  by  which  the  whole 
organism  was  disturbed,  and  the  man  rendered  less 
able  to  resist  morbid  influences  of  any  kind.  He 
gave  many  striking  instances  of  the  growth  and 
power  of  appetite,  which  had  come  under  his  pro- 
fessional notice,  and  of  the  ingenious  devices  and 
desperate  resorts  to  which  dypsomaniacs  were  driven 
in  their  efforts  to  satisfy  their  inordinate  cravings. 
No  consideration,  temporal  or  spiritual,  had  any 
power  to  restrain  their  appetite,  if,  by  any  means, 
fair  or  foul,  they  could  obtain  alcoholic  stimulants. 
To  get  this,  he  said,  the  unhappy  subject  of  this 
terrible  thirst  "  will  tell  the  most  shameful  lies — for 
no  truth  is  ever  found  in  connection  with  the 
habitual  drunkard's  state.  He  never  yet  saw  truth 
in  n-lation  to  drink  got  out  of  one  who  was  a  dyso- 
nianiac — he  has  sufficient  reason  left  to  tell  these 
nn truths,  and  to  understand  his  position,  because 
people  in  that  condition  are  seldom  dead  drunk  ; 
tin  y  are  seldom  in  the  condition  of  total  stupidity; 
they  have  generally  an  eye  open  to  their  own  affairs, 
and  that  which  is  the  main  business  of  their  exist- 
.  namely,  how  to  get  drink.  They  will  resort 
to  the  most  ingenious,  mean  and  degrading  con- 
trivances and  practices  to  procure  and  comval 
liquor,  and  this,  too,  while  closely  watched;  and 


478  STRONG  DRINK; 

will  succeed  in  deception,  although  fabulous  quan- 
tities are  daily  swallowed." 

Dr.  John  Nugent  gives  a  case  which  came  within 
his  own  knowledge,  of  a  lady  who  had  been 

A  MOST  EXEMPLARY  NUN 

for  fifteen  or  twenty  years.  In  consequence  of  her 
devotion  to  the  poor,  attending  them  in  fevers,  and 
like  cases,  it  seemed  necessary  for  her  to  take  stimu- 
lants ;  these  stimulants  grew  to  be  habitual,  and  she 
had  been  compelled,  five  or  six  times,  to  place  her- 
self in  a  private  asylum.  In  three  or  four  weeks 
after  being  let  out,  she  would  relapse,  although  she 
was  believed  to  be  under  the  strongest  influences  of 
religion,  and  of  the  most  virtuous  desires.  There  had 
been  developed  in  her  that  disposition  to  drink 
which  she  was  unable  to  overcome  or  control. 

The  power  of  this  appetite,  and  the  frightful 
moral  perversions  that  often  follow  its  indulgence 
are  vividly  portrayed  in  the  following  extract,  from 
an  address  by  Dr.  Elisha  Harris,  of  New  York,  in 
which  he  discusses  the  question  of  the  criminality  of 
drunkenness." 

"  Let  the  fact  be  noticed  that  such  is  the  lethargy 
which  alcoholism  produces  upon  reason  and  con- 
science, that  it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  bring  the 
offender  to  view  his  drunken  indulgence  as  a  crime. 
We  have  known  a  refined  and  influential  citizen  to 
be  so  startled  at  the  fact  that  he  wished  to  destroy 
the  lives1  of  all  persons,  even  of  his  own  family,  who 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  479 

manifested  unhappincss  at  his  intemperance,  that 
seeing  this  terrible  criminality  of  his  indulgence, 
instantly  formed,  and  has  forever  kept,  his  resolu- 
tions of  abstinence.  We  have  known  the  hereditary 
dypsomaniac  break  from  his  destroyer,  and  when 
tempted  in  secret  by  the  monstrous  appetite,  so 
grind  his  teeth  and  clinch  his  jaws  in  keeping  his 
vows  to  taste  not,  that  blood  dripped  from  his  mouth 
and  cold  sweat  bathed  his  face.  That  man  is  a 
model  of  temperance  and  moral  power  to-day.  And 
it  was  the  consciousness  of  personal  criminality  that 
.stimulated  these  successful  conflicts  with  the  morbid 
appetite  and  the  powers  of  the  alcohol  disease  that 
had  fastened  upon  them.  Shall  we  hesitate  to  hold 
ourselves,  or  to  demand  that  communities  shall  hold 
every  drunkard — not  yet  insane — responsible  for 
every  act  of  inebriety  ?  Certainly,  it  is  not  cruel  or 
unjust  to  deal  thus  with  drunkenness.  It  is  not  the 
prison  we  open,  but  conscience." 

The  danger  in  which  those  stand  who  have  an 

INHERITED  PREDISPOSITION  TO  DRINK, 

ry  great.  Rev.  I.  "Willett,  Superintendent  of 
the  Inebriate's  Home,  Fort  Hamilton,  Kings  Coun- 
ty, New  York,  thus  refers  to  this  class,  which  is 
larger  than  many  think:  "There  are  a  hast  of 
living  men  and  women  to  be  found  who  never 
drank,  and  who  dare  not  drink,  intoxicating  liquors 
or  beverages,  because  one  or  both  of  their  parents 
were  inebriates  before  they  were  born  into  the 


480  STRONQ  DRINK; 

world ;  •  and,  besides,  a  number  of  these  have 
brothers  or  sisters  who,  having  given  way  to  the 
inherited  appetite,  are  now  passing  downward  on 
this  descending  sliding  scale.  The  greater  portion 
of  them  have  already  passed  over  the  bounds  of 
self-control,  and  the  varied  preliminary  symptoms 
of  melancholy,  mania,  paralysis,  ideas  of  persecu- 
tion, etc.,  etc.,  are  developing.  As  to  the  question 
of  responsibility,  each  case  is  either  more  or  less 
doubtful,  and  can  only  be  tested  on  its  separate 
merits.  There  is,  however,  abundant  evidence  to 
prove  that  this  predisposition  to  inebriety,'  even 
after  long  indulgence,  can,  by  a  skillful  process  of 
medication,  accompanied  by  either  voluntary  or 
compulsory  restraint,  be  subdued;  and  the  coun- 
terbalancing physical  and  mental  powers  can  at 
the  same  time  be  so  strengthened  and  invigorated 
as  in  the  future  to  enable  the  person  to  resist  the 
temptations  by  which  he  may  be  surrounded.  Yea, 
though  the  powers  of  reason  may,  for  the  time  be- 
ing, be  dethroned,  and  lunacy  be  developed,  these 
cases,  in  most  instances,  will  yield  to  medical  treat- 
ment where  "the  surrounding  conditions  of  restraint 
and  careful  nursing  are  supplemental. 

"  We  have  observed  that  in  many  instances  the 
fact  of  the  patient  being  convinced  that  he  is  an 
hereditary  inebriate,  has  produced  beneficial  results. 
Summoning  to  his  aid  all  the  latent  counterbalanc- 
ing energies  which  he  has  at  command,  and  cloth- 
ing himself  with  this  armor,  he  goes  forth  to  war, 


THE  CURSE  AND  TIIE  C'  481 

throws  up  the  fortifications  of  physical  and  mental 

lint,  repairs  the  breaches  and  inroads  of  dis- 

1  appetite,  regains  control  of  the  citadel  of  the 

bruin,  and  then,  with  shouts  of  triumph,  he  unfurls 

the  banner  of  '  VICTORY  !' ' 

1  >r.  Wood,  of  London,  in  his  work  on  insanity, 
king  on  the  subject  of  hereditary  inebriety, 

"  Instances  are  sufficiently  familiar,  and  several 

have  occurred  within  my  own  personal  knowledge, 

where  the  father,  having  died  at  any  early  age  from 

the  effects  of  intemperance,  has  left  a  son  to  be 

brought  up  by  those  who  have  severely  suffered 

from  his  excesses,  and  have  therefore  the  strongest 

motives  to  prevent,  if  possible,  a  repetition  of  such 

ry;    every  pains  has  been  taken  to  enforce 

sobriety,  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  precautions, 

the  habits  of  the  father  have  become  those  of  the 

Mm,  who,  never  having  seen  him  from  infancy, 

could  not    have    adopted    them    from    imitation. 

ything  was  done  to  encourage  habits  of  tem- 

nce,  but  all  to  no  purpose;    the  seeds  of  the 

ise  had  begun  to  germinate;  a  blind  impul.-e 

led  the  doomed  individual,  by  successive  and  rapid 

strides,  along  the  same  course  which  was  fatal  to  the 

father,  and  which,  ere  long",  terminated  in  his  own 

action." 

How  great  and  fearful  the  power  of  an  apj 
which  cannot  only  enslave  and  curse  the  man 
which  it  -ains  control,  hut  send  its  malign  influence 
31 


482  STRONG  DRINK; 

down  to  the  second  and  third  and  fourth  genera- 
tions, sometimes  to  the  absolute 

EXTINGUISHMENT  OF  FAMILIES! 

Morel,  a  Frenchman,  gives  the  following  as  the 
result  of  his  observation  of  the  hereditary  effects  of 
drunkenness : 

"First  generation:  Immorality,  depravity,  ex- 
cess in  the  use  of  alcoholic  liquors,  moral  debase- 
ment. Second  generation :  Hereditary  drunkenness, 
paroxysms  of  mania,  general  paralysis.  Third 
generation:  Sobriety, hypochondria,  melancholy, sys- 
tematic ideas  of  being  persecuted,  homicidal  tend- 
encies. Fourth  generation:  Intelligence  slightly 
developed,  first  accessions  of  mania  at  sixteen  years 
of  age,  stupidity,  subsequent  idiocy  and  probable 
extinction  of  family." 

Dr.  T.  D.  Crothers,  in  an  analysis  of  the  hundred 
cases  of  inebriety  received  at  the  New  York  Ine- 
briate Asylum,  gives  this  result :  "  Inebriety  inher- 
ited direct  from  parents  was  traced  in  twenty-one 
cases.  In  eleven  of  these  the  father  drank  alone, 
in  six  instances  the  mother  drank,  and  in  four  cases 
both  parents  drank. 

"In  thirty-three  cases  inebriety  was  traced  to 
ancestors  more  remote,  as  grandfather,  grandmother, 
etc.,  etc.,  the  collateral  branches  exhibiting  both 
inebriety  and  insanity.  In  some  instances  a  whole 
generation  had  been  passed  over,  and  the  disorders 
of  the  grandparents  appeared  again. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'Iir.  433 

"  In  twenty  cases  various  neurosal  disorders  had 
been  prominent  in  the  family  and  its  branches,  of 
which  neuralgia,  chorea,  hysteria,  eccentricity,  ma- 
nia, epilepsy  and  inebriety,  were  most  common. 

"  In  some  cases,  a  wonderful  periodicity  in  the 
outbreak  of  these  disorders  was  manifested. 

"  For  instance,  in  one  family,  for  two  generations, 
inebriety  appeared  in  seven  out  of  twelve  members, 
after  they  had  passed  forty,  and  ended  fatally  within 
ten  years.  In  another,  hysteria,  chorea,  epilepsy 
ami  mania,  with  drunkenness,  came  on  soon  after 
puberty,  and  seemed  to  deflect  to  other  disorders,  or 
exhau.-t  itself  before  middle  life.  This  occurred  in 
ei^lit  out  of  fourteen,  extending  over  two  genera- 
tions. In  another  instance,  the  descendants  of  three 
generations,  and  many  of  the  collateral  branches, 
developed  inebriety,  mental  eccentricities,  with  other 
disorders  bordering  on  mania,  at  about  thirty-five 
years  of  age.  In  some  cases  this  lasted  only  a  lew 
9,  in  others  a  lifetime." 

And  here  let  us  say  that  in  this  matter  of  an  in- 
herited appetite  there  is  a  difference  of  views  with 
some  who  believe  that  appetite  is  never  transmitted 
but  always  acquired.  This  difference  of  view  is 
more  apparent  than  real.  It  is  not  the  drunkard's 
appetite  that  is  transmitted,  but  the  bias  or  proclivity 
which  renders  the  subject  of  such  an  inherited  tend- 
ency more  susceptible  to  exciting  causes,  and  there- 
fore in  greater  danger  from  tl.  alcoholic 
drinks  than  others. 


484  STRONG  DRINK; 

Dr.  N.  S.  Davis,  in  an  article  in  the  Wash  in y- 
tonian,  published  at  Chicago,  presents  the  opposite 
view  of  the  case.  The  following  extract  from 
this  article  is  well  worthy  to  be  read  and  con- 
sidered : 

"  If  we  should  say  that  man  is  so  constituted  that 
he  is  capable  of  feeling  weary,  restless,  despondent 
and  anxious,  and  that  he  instinctively  desires  to  be 
relieved  of  these  unpleasant  feelings,  we  should  as- 
sert a  self-evident  fact.  And  we  should  thereby 
assert  all  the  instincts  or  natural  impulse  there  is  in 
the  matter.  It  is  simply  a  desire  to  be  relieved 
from  unpleasant  feelings,  and  does  not,  in  the- slight- 
est degree,  indicate  or  suggest  any  particular  remedy. 
It  no  more  actually  suggests  the  idea  of  alcohol  or 
opium  than  it  does  bread  and  water.  But  if,  by 
accident,  or  by  the  experience  of  others,  the  indi- 
vidual has  learned  that  his  unpleasant  feelings  can 
be  relieved,  for  the  time  being,  by  alcohol,  opium  or 
any  other  exhilarant,  he  not  only  uses  the  remedy 
himself,  but  perpetuates  a  knowledge  of  the  same 
to  others.  It  is  in  this  way,  and  this  only,  that  most 
of  the  nations  and  tribes  of  our  race,  have,  much 
to  their  detriment,  found  a  knowledge  of  some  kind 
of  intoxicant.  The  same  explanation  is  applicable 
to  the  supposed  *  constitutional  susceptibility,'  as  a 
primary  cause  of  intemperance.  That  some  persons 
inherit  a  greater  degree  of  nervous  and  organic 
susceptibility  than  others,  and  are,  in  consequence 
of  this  greater  susceptibility,  more  readily  uii'ected 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  435 

by  a  ^iven  quantity  of  narcotic,  anaesthetic  or  in- 
ini,  is  undoubtedly  true.     And  that  such  will 

MORE  READILY  BECOME  DRUNKARDS, 

if  they  once  commence  to  use  intoxicating  drinks, 
is  also  true.  But  that  such  persons,  or  any  others, 
ha\v  the  slightest  inherent  or  constitutional  taste  or 
any  longing  for  intoxicants,  until  they  have  acquired 
such  taste  or  longing  by  actual  use,  we  find  no  reliable 
proof.  It  is  true  that  statistics  appear  to  show  that 
a  larger  proportion  of  the  children  of  drunkards 
become  themselves  drunkards,  than  of  children  born 
of  total  abstainers.  And  hence  the  conclusion  has 
been  drawn  that  such  children  INHERITED  the  con- 
stitutional tendency  to  inebriation.  But  before  we 
are  justified  in  adopting  such  a  conclusion,  several 
other  important  facts  must  be  ascertained. 

"  1st.  We  must  know  whether  the  mother,  while 
nursing,  used  more  or  less  constantly  some  kind  of 
alcoholic  beverage,  by  which  the  alcohol  might 
have  impregnated  the  milk  in  her  breasts  and 
thereby  made  its  early  impression  on  the  tastes  and 
longings  of  the  child. 

"  iM.  We  must  know  whether  the  intemperate 
parents  were  in  the  habit  of  frequently  giving  al- 
coholic preparations  to  the  children,  either  to  relieve 
temporary  ailments,  or  for  the  same  reason  that 
they  drank  it  themselves.  I  am  constrained  to  say, 
that  from  my  own  observation,  extending  over  a 
period  of  forty  years,  and* a  field  by  no  means  lim- 


486  STRONG  DRINK; 

ited,  I  am  satisfied  that  nineteen  out  of  every  twenty 
persons  who  have  been  regarded  as  HEREDITARY 
inebriates  have  simply  ACQUIRED  the  disposition  to 
drink  by  one  or  both  of  the  methods  just  mentioned, 
after  birth." 

The  views  here  presented  in  no  way  lessen  but 
really  heighten  the  perils  of  moderate  drinking. 
It  is  affirmed  that  some  persons  inherit  a  greater 
degree  of  nervous  and  organic  susceptibility  than 
others,  and  are,  in  consequence,  more  readily  affected 
by  a  given  quantity  of  narcotic,  anaesthetic  or  in- 
toxicant ;  and  that  such  "  will  more  readily  become 
drunkards  if  they  commence  to  use  intoxicating 
drinks" 

Be  the  cause  of  this 

INHERITED  NERVOUS  SUSCEPTIBILITY 

what  it  may,  and  it  is  far  more  general  than  is  to 
be  inferred  from  the  admission  just  quoted,  the  fact 
stands  forth  as  a  solemn  warning  of  the  peril  every 
man  encounters  in  even  the  most  moderate  use  of 
alcohol.  Speaking  of  this  matter,  Dr.  George  M. 
Beard,  who  is  not  as  sound  on  the  liquor  question 
as  we  could  wish,  says,  in  an  article  on  the  "  Causes 
of  the  Recent  Increase  of  Inebriety  in  America :" 
"As  a  means  of  prevention,  abstinence  from  the 
habit  of  drinking  is  to  be  enforced.  Such  abstinence 
may  not  have  been  necessary  for  our  fathers,  but  it 
is  rendered  necessary  for  a  large  body  of  the  Ameri- 
can people  on  account  of'  our  greater  nervous  sus- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  C'l  437 

coptihility.  It  is  possible  to  drink  without  being  an 
habitual  drinker,  as  it  is  possible  to  take  chloral  or 
opium  without  forming  the  habit  of  taking  these 
substances.  In  certain  countries  and  climates  where 
the  nervous  system  is  strong  and  the  temperature 
more  equable  than  with  us,  in  what  I  sometimes 
call  the  temperate  belt  of  the  world,  including  Spain, 
Italy,  Southern  France,  Syria  and  Persia,  the  ha- 
bitual use  of  wine  rarely  leads  to  drunkenness,  and 
r,  or  almost  never,  to  inebriety ;  but  in  the  in- 
temperate belt,  where  we  live,  and  which  includes 
Nni -ihern  Europe  and  the  United  States,  with  a  cold 
and  violently  changeable  climate,  the  habit  of  drink- 
ing either  wines  or  stronger  liquors  is  liable  to  de- 
velop in  some  cases  a  habit  of  intemperance.  No- 
tably in  our  country,  where  nervous  sensitiveness 
is  seen  in  its  extreme  manifestations,  the  majority  of 
bra  in -workers  are  not  safe  so  long  as  they  are  in 
the  habit  of  even  moderate  drinking.  I  admit  that 
this  was  not  the  case  one  hundred  years  ago — and 
the  reasons  I  have  already  given — it  is  not  the  case 
to-day  in  Continental  Europe;  even  in  England  it 
is  not  so  markedly  the  case  as  in  the  northern  part 
of  the  United  States.  For  those  iml  induct!*  who 
in/a  rit  a  t<  ndency  to  im-hriety,  the  only  safe  course 
is  absolute  abstinence,  especially  in  early  life" 

In  the  same  article,  Dr.  JJaird  remarks:  "The 
number  of  those  in  this  country  who^  cannot  bear 
tea,  eoil'ee  or  aleohulic  liquors  of  any  kind,  is  v* TV 
large.  There  are  many,  e>preially  in  the  Northern 


488  STRONG 

States,  wlio  must  forego  coffee  entirely,  and  use  tea 
only  with  caution;  either,  in  any  excess,  cause 
trembling  nerves  and  sleepless  nights.  The  sus- 
ceptibility to  alcohol  is  so  marked,  with  many  per- 
sons, that  no  pledges,  and  no  medical  advice,  and 
no  moral  or  legal  influences  are  needed  to  keep  them 
in  the  paths  of  temperance.  Such  persons  are 
warned  by  flushing  of  the  face •,  or  by  headacJie,  that 
alcohol,  whatever  it  may  be  to  others,  or  whatever  it 
may  have  been  to  their  ancestors,  is  poison  to 
them" 

But,  in  order  to  give  a  higher  emphasis  to  pre- 
cepts, admonition  and  medical  testimony,  we  offer  a 
single  example  of  the  enslaving  power  of  appetite, 
when,  to  a  predisposing  hereditary  tendency,  the 
excitement  of  indulgence  has  been  added.  The 
facts  of  this  case  were  communicated  to  us  by  a  pro- 
fessional gentleman  connected  with  one  of  our  largest 
inebriate  asylums,  and  we  give  them  almost  in  his 
very  words  in  which  they  were  related. 

• 

A  REMARKABLE  CASE. 

A  clever,  but  dissipated  actor  married  clandes- 
tinely a  farmer's  daughter  in  the  State  of  New 
York.  The  parents  of  the  girl  would  not  recognize 
him  as  the  husband  of  their  child ;  rejecting  him  so 
utterly  that  he  finally  left  the  neighborhood..  A 
son  born  of  Jhis  marriage  gave  early  evidence  of 
great  mental  activity,  and  was  regarded,  in  the  col- 
lege where  he  graduated,  as  almost  a  prodigy  of 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  (77.7:.  439 

ing.  He  carried  off  many  prizes,  and  distin- 
hiniM -It'  as  a  brilliant  orator.  Afterwards  he 
went  to  Princeton  and  studied  for  the  ministry. 
AVhile  there,  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  secretly 
drinking.  The  faculty  did  everything  in  their  power 
to  help  and  retrain  him  ;  and  his  co-operation  with 
tin-in  was  earnest  as  to  purpose,  but  not  permanently 
availing.  The  nervous  susceptibility  inherited  from 
hi.s  father  responded  with  a  morbid  quickness  to 
Citing  cause,  and  the  moment  wine  or  spirits 
touched  the  sense  of  smell  or  taste,  he  was  seized 
with  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  drink  to  excess, 
and  too  often  yielded  to  its  demands.  For  months 
In-  would  abstain  entirely ;  and  then  drink  to  intoxi- 
cation in  secret. 

;er  graduating  from  Princeton  he  became  pastor 
of  a  church  in  one  of  the  largest  cities  of  Western 
Ne\v  York,  where  he  remained  for  two  years,  dis- 
tinguishing himself  for  his  earnest  work  and  fervid 
eloquence.  But  the  appetite  he  had  formed  was 
imperious  in  its  demands,  and  periodically  became 
so  strong  that  he  lost  the  power  of  resistance.  When 
these  periodic  assaults  of  appetite  came,  he  would 

LOCK  HIMSELF  IN  HIS  ROOM  FOE  DAYS 

and  satiate  the  fierce  thirst,  coming  out  sick  and 
exhausted.  It  was  impossible  to  conceal  from  his 
congregation  the  dreadful  habit  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  and  ere  two  years  had  elapsed  he  was  dis- 
l  for  drunkenness.  He  then  went  to  one  of 


490  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  chief  cities  of  the  West,  where  he  received  a 
call,  and  was,  fora  time,  distinguished  as  a  preacher; 
but  again  he  fell  into  disgrace  and  had  to  leave  his 
charge.  Two  other  churches  called  him  to  fill  the 
office  of  pastor,  but  the  same  sad  defections  from 
sobriety  followed.  For  a  considerable  time  after 
this  his  friends  lost  sight  of  him.  Then  he  was 
found  in  the  streets  of  New  York  City  by  the  presi- 
dent of  the  college  from  which  he  had  first  gradu- 
ated, wretched  and  debased  from  drink,  coatless  and 
hatless.  His  old  friend  took  him  to  a  hotel,  and 
then  brought  his  case  to  the  notice  of  the  people  at 
a  prayer-meeting  held  in  the  evening  at  one  of  the 
churches.  His  case  was  immediately  taken  in  hand 
and  money  raised  to  send  him  to  the  State  Inebriate 
Asylum.  After  he  had  remained  there  for  a  year, 
he  began  to  preach  as  a  supply  in  a  church  a  few 
miles  distant,  going  on  Saturday  evening  and  re- 
turning on  Monday  morning ;  but  always  having  an 
attendant  with  him,  riot  daring  to  trust  himself 
alone.  This  went  on  for  nearly  a  whole  year,  when 
a  revival  sprang  up  in  the  church,  which  he  con- 
ducted with  great  eloquence  and  fervor.  After  the 
second  week  of  this  new  excitement,  he  began  to 
lock  himself  up  in  his  room  after  returning  from 
the  service,  and  could  not  be  seen  until  the  next 
morning.  In  the  third  week  of  the  revival,  the 
excitement  of  the  meetings  grew  intense.  After 
this  he  was  only  seen  in  the  pulpit,  where  his  air 
and  manner  were  wild  and  thrilling.  His  friends 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  C r /:/•:.  491 

at  the  asylum  knew  that  he  must  be  drinking,  and 
while  hesitating  as  to  their  wisest  course,  waited 
anxiously  for  the  result.  One  day  he  was  grandly 
eloquent.  Such  power  in  the  pulpit  had  never  been 
witnessed  there  before — his  appeals  were  unequalled; 
but  so  wild  and  impassioned  that  some  began  to  fear 
for  his  reason.  At  the  close  of  this  day's  services, 
the  chaplain  of  the  institution  of  which  he  was  an 
inmate,  returned  with  him  to  the  asylum,  and  on 
the  way,  told  him  frankly  that  he  was  deceiving  the 
people — that  his  eloquent  appeals  came  not  from  the 
power  of  he  Holy  Spirit,  but  from  the  excitement 
of  drink  ;  and  that  all  farther  conduct  of  the  meet- 
ings must  be  left  in  other  hands.  On  reaching  the 
a.-ylum  he  retired,  greatly  agitated,  and  soon  after 
died  from  a  stroke  of  apoplexy.  In  his  room  many 
empty  bottles,  which  had  contained  brandy,  were 
found ;  but  the  people  outside  remained  in  ignorance 
of  the  true  cause  of  the  marvelous  eloquence  which 
had  so  charmed  and  moved  them. 

We  have  already  extended  this  chapter  beyond 
the  limit  at  first  proposed.  Our  object  has  not  only 
been  to  show  the  thoughtful  and  intelligent  reader 
who  uses  alcoholic  beverages,  the  great  peril  in  which 
he  stands,  but  to  make  apparent  to  every  one,  how 
insidious  is  the  growth  and  how  terrible  the  power 
of  this  appetite  for  intoxicants;  an  appetite  which, 
if  once  established,  is  almost  sure  to  rob  its  victim 
of  honor,  pity,  tenderness  and  love;  an  appetite, 
whose  indulgence  too  often  transforms  the  man  into 


492  STRONG  DRINK; 

a  selfish  demon.  Think  of  it,  all  ye  who  dally 
with  the  treacherous  cup ;  are  not  the  risks  you  are 
running  too  great?  Nay,  considering  your  duties 
and  your  obligations,  have  you  any  right  to  run 
these  risks  ? 

And  now  that  we  have  shown  the  curse  of  strong 
drink,  let  us  see  what  agencies  are  at  work  in  the 
abatement,  prevention  and  cure  of  a  disease  that  is 
undermining  the  health  of  whole  nations,  shorten- 
ing the  natural  term  of  human  life,  and  in  our 
own  country  alone,  sending  over  sixty  thousand 
men  and  women  annually  into  untimely  graves. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

MEANS  OF  CURE. 

IS  tins  disease,  or  vice,  or  sin,  or  crime  of  intem- 
perance— call  it  by  what  name  you  will — in- 
creasing or  diminishing  ?  Has  any  impression  been 
made  ujMjn  it  during  the  half-century  in  which  there 
have  been  such  earnest  and  untiring  efforts  to  limit 
its  encroachments  on  the  health,  prosperity,  happi- 
ness and  life  of  the  people  ?  What  are  the  agencies 
of  repression  at  work ;  how  effective  are  they,  and 
what  is  each  doing? 

These  are  questions  full  of  momentous  interest. 
Diseases  of  the  body,  if  not  cured,  work  a  steady 
impairment  of  health,  and  bring  pains  and  physical 
disabilities.  If  their  assaults  be  upon  nervous 
centres,  or  vital  organs,  the  danger  of  para  lysis  or 
death  becomes  imminent.  Now,  as  to  this  disease  of 
intemperance,  which  is  asocial  and  moral  as  well 
as  a  physical  disease,  it  is  not  to  be  concealed  that 
it  has  invaded  the  common  body  of  the  people  to 
an  alarming  decree,  until,  using  the  words  of  Holy 
AVrit,  "the  whole  head  is  sick  and  the  whole  heart 
faint."  Nay,  until,  using  a  still  stronger  form  of 
Scriptural  illustration,  "  From  the  .<ole  of  the  foot 
403 


494  STRONG  DRISK; 

even  unto  the  head,  there  is  no  soundness  in  it ;  but 
wounds  and  bruises  and  putrifying  sores." 

In  this  view,  the  inquiry  as  to  increase  or  dimi- 
nution, assumes  the  gravest  importance.  If,  under 
all  the  agencies  of  cure  and  reform  whicn  have  been 
in  active  operation  during  the  past  fifty  years,  no 
impression  has  been  made  upon  this  great  evil  which 
is  so  cursing  the  people,  theD.  is  the  case  indeed 
desperate,  if  not  hopeless.  But  if  it  appears  that, 
under  these  varied  agencies,  there  has  been  an  arrest 
of  the  disease  here,  a  limitation  of  its  aggressive 
force  there,  its  almost  entire  extirpation  in  certain 
cases,  and  a  better  public  sentiment  everywhere;  then, 
indeed,  may  we  take  heart  and  say  "  God  speed  tem- 
perance work !"  in  all  of  its  varied  aspects. 

HOPEFUL  SIGNS. 

And  here,  at  the  outset  of  our  presentation  of 
some  of  the  leading  agencies  of  reform  and  cure, 
let  us  say,  that  the  evidence  going  to  show  that  an 
impression  has  been  made  upon  the  disease  is  clear 
and  indisputable;  and  that  this  impression  is  so 
marked  as  to  give  the  strongest  hope  and  assurance. 
In  the  face  of  prejudice,  opposition,  ridicule,  perse- 
cution, obloquy  and  all  manner  of  discouragements, 
the  advocates  of  temperance  have  held  steadily  to 
their  work  these  many  years,  and  now  the  good 
results  are  seen  on  every  hand.  Contrast  the  public 
sentiment  of  to-day  with  that  of  twenty,  thirty  and 
forty  years  ago,  and  the  progress  becomes  at  once 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  495 

apparent.  In  few  things  is  this  so  marked  as  in 
the  changed  attitude  of  the  medical  profession  to- 
wards alcohol.  One  of  the  most  dangerous,  and,  at 
-;ime  time,  one  of  the  most  securely  intrenched 
of  all  our  enemies,  was  the  family  doctor.  Among 

•medics  and  restoratives,  wine,  brandy,  whisky 
and  tonic  ale  all  held  a  high  place,  and  were  admin- 

d  more  frequently,  perhaps,  than  any  other 
articles  in  the  Materia  Medica.  The  disease  of  his 
patients  a r rested  by  special  remedies  or  broken  by  an 
effort  of  nature,  he  too  often  commenced  the  admin- 
ist  ration  of  alcohol  in  some  one  or  more  of  its  dis- 

1  and  attractive  forms,  in  order  to  give  tone 
and  stimulus  to  the  stomach  and  nerves,  and  as  a 

ral  vitalizer  and  restorative.  The  evil  conse- 
quences growing  out  of  this  almost  universal  pre- 
scription of  alcohol,  were  of  the  most  lamentable 
character,  and  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 

and  women  were  betrayed  into  drunkenness. 
But  ;  you  will  not  find  a  physician  of  any 

high  repute  in  America  or  Europe  who  will  give  it 
to  his  patients,  except  in  the  most  guarded  manner 
and  under  the  closest  limitations;  and  he  will  not 
ent  to  any  self-prescription  whatever. 

FRUITS  OF  TEMPER  A  .\(K  WORK. 

Is  not  this  a  great  gain?   And  it  has  come  as  the 
result  of  temperance  work  and  agitation,  as  Dr. 

:y  Monroe  frankly  admits  in  his  lecture  on  the 
Physiological  Action  of  Alcohol,  where,  after  stat ing 


490  STRONG  DRINK  f 

that  his  remarks  would  not  partake  of  the  character 
of  a  total  abstinence  lecture,  but  rather  of  a  scien- 
tific inquiry  into  the  mode  of  action  of  alcohol  when 
introduced  into  the  tissues  of  the  body,  he  adds: 
"  Nevertheless,  I  would  not  have  it  understood  that 
I,  in  any  way,  disparage  the  moral  efforts  made  by- 
total  abstainers  who,  years  ago,  amid  good  report 
and  evil  report,  stood  in  the  front  of  the  battle  to 
war  against  the  multitude  of  evils  occasioned  by 
strong  drink ; — all  praise  be  due  to  them  for  their 
noble  and  self-denying  exertions !  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  successful  labors  of  these  moral  giants  in  the 
great  cause  of  temperance,  presenting  to  the  world 
in  their  own  personal  experiences  many  new  and 
astounding  physiological  facts,  men  of  science  would, 
probably,  never  Jiave  had  their  attention  drawn  to 
the  topic." 

Then,  as  a  result  of  temperance  work,  we  have  a 
more  restrictive  legislation  in  many  States,  and 
prohibitory  laws  in  New  Hampshire,  Vermont  and 
Maine.  In  the  State  of  Maine,  a  prohibitory  law 
has  been  in  operation  for  over  twenty -six  years; 
and  so  salutary  has  been  the  effect  as  seen  in  the 

REDUCTION  OF  POVERTY,  PAUPERISM  AND  CRIME, 

that  the  Legislature,  in  January,  1877,  added  new 
and  heavier  penalties  to  the  law,  both  Houses  passing 
on  the  amendment  without  a  dissenting  voice.  In 
all  that  State  there  is  not,  now,  a  single  distillery  or 
brewery  in  operation,  nor  a  single  open  bar-room. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'Iir.  4Q7 

Forty  years  ago  the  pulpit  was  almost  silent  on 
the  subject  of  intemperance  and  the  liquor  traffic ; 
now,  the  church  is  fast  arraying  itself  on  the  side 
of  total  abstinence  and  prohibition,  and  among  its 
ministers  arc  to  be  found  many  of  our  most  active 
temperance  workers. 

Forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  the  etiquette  of  hospi- 
tality was  violated  if  wine,  or  cordial,  or  brandy 
not  tendered.  Nearly  every  sideboard  had  its 
display  of  decanters,  well  filled,  and  it  was  almost 
as  much  an  offense  for  the  guest  to  decline  as  for  the 
host  to  omit  the  proffered  glass.  Even  lx>3rs  and 
girls  were  included  in  the  custom ;  and  tastes  were 
acquired  which  led  to  drunkenness  in  after  life. 
All  this  is  changed  now. 

The  curse  of  the  liquor  traffic  is  attracting,  as 
iH'vrr  before,  the  attention  of  all  civilized  people; 
and  national,  State  and  local  legislatures  and  gov- 
ernments are  appointing  commissions  of  inquiry, 
and  gathering  data-  and  facts,  with  a  view  to  its 
restriction. 

And,  more  hopeful  than  all,  signs  are  becoming 
more  and  more  apparent  that  the  people  are  every- 
where awakening  to  a  sense  of  the  dangers  that 
attend  this  traffic.  Enlightenment  is  steadily  pro- 
gressing. Reason  and  judgment;  common  sense 
and  prudenee,  are  all  mining  to  the  aid  of  repression. 
Men  see,  as  they  never  saw  before,  how  utterly  evil 
and  destruetivi-  are  the  drinking  habits  of  this  and 
other  nations;  how  they  weaken  the  judgment  and 
32 


498  STEOXG 

deprave  the  moral  sense ;  how  they  not  only  take 
from  every  man  who  falls  into  them  his  ability  to 
do  his  best  in  any  pursuit  or  calling,  hut  sow  in  his 
body  the  germs  of  diseases  which  will  curse  him  in 
his  later  years  and  abridge  their  term. 

Other  evidences  of  the  steady  growth  among  the 
people  of  a  sentiment  adverse  to  drinking  might  be 
given.  We  see  it  in  the  almost  feverish  response 
that  everywhere  meets  the  strong  appeals  of  tem- 
perance speakers,  and  in  the  more  pronounced  atti- 
tude taken  by  public  and  professional  men. 

JUDGES  ON  THE  BENCH 

and  preachers  from  the  pulpit  alike  lift  their  voices 
in  condemnation.  Grand  juries  repeat  and  repeat 
their  presentations  of  liquor  selling  and  liquor 
drinking  as  the  fruitful  source  of  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  the  crimes  and  miseries  that  afflict  the 
community ;  and  prison  reports  add  their  painful 
emphasis  to  the  warning  of  the  inquest. 

The  people  learn  slowly,  but  they  are  learning. 
Until  they  will  that  this  accursed  traffic  shall  cease, 
it  must  go  on  with  its  sad  and  awful  consequences. 
But  the  old  will  of  the  people  has  been  debased  by 
sensual  indulgence.  It  is  too  weak  to  set  itself 
against  the  appetite  by  which  it  has  become  en- 
slaved. There  must  be  a  new  will  formed  in  the 
ground  of  enlightenment  and  intelligence;  and 
then,  out  of  knowing  what  is  right  and  duty  in 
regard  to  this  great  question  of  temperance  and 


THE  CURSE  AND  TIIE  CURE.  499 


restriction,  will  come  the  will  to  do.  And  when 
we  have  this  new  will  resting  in  the  true  enlighten- 
ment of  the  people,  we  shall  have  no  impeded 
action.  Whatever  seta  itself  in  opposition  thereto 
must  go  down. 

And  for  this  the  time  is  coming,  though  it  may 
still  be  far  off.  Of  its  steady  approach,  the  evidences 
are  many  and  cheering.  Meanwhile,  we  must  work 
and  wait  If  we  are  not  yet  strong  enough  to  drive 
out  the  enemy,  we  may  limit  his  power,  and  do 

THE  WORK  OF  HEALING  AND  SAVING. 

What,  then,  is  being  done  in  this  work  of  healing 
and  saving?  Is  there,  in  fact,  any  cure  for  the 
dreadful  malady  of  drunkenness  ?  Are  men  ever 
really  saved  from  its  curse?  and,  if  so,  how  is  it 
done,  and  what  are  the  agencies  employed  ? 

Among  the  first  of  these  to  which  we  shall  refer, 
is  the  pledge.  As  a  means  of  reform  and  restric- 
tion, it  has  been  used  by  temperance  workers  from 
the  beginning,  and  still  holds  a  prominent  place, 
Seeing  that  only  in  a  complete  abstinence  from  in- 
toxicating drinks  was  there  any  hope  of  rescue  for 
the  drunkard,  or  any  security  for  the  moderate 
drinker,  it  was  felt  that  under  a  solemn  pledge  to 
wholly  abstain  from  their  use,  large  numbers  of  men 
would,  from  a  sense  of  honor,  self-respect  or  con- 
H-ienee,  hold  themselves  free  from  touch  or  taste. 
In  the  case  of  moderate  drinkers,  with  whom  aj  -pe- 
tite is  yet  under  control,  the  pledge  has  been  of 


500  STRONG  DRINK i 

great  value;   but  almost  useless  after  appetite  lias 
gained  the  mastery. 

In  a  simple  pledge  there  is  no  element  of  self- 
control.  If  honor,  self-respect  or  conscience,  rally- 
ing to  its  support  in  the  hour  of  temptation,  be  not 
stronger  than  appetite,  it  will  be  of  no  avail.  And 
it  too  often  happens  that,  with  the  poor  inebriate, 
these  have  become  blunted,  or  well-nigh  extin- 
guished. The  consequence  has  been  that  where  the 
pledge  has  been  solely  relied  upon,  the  percentage 
of  reform  has  been  very  small.  As  a  first  means  of 
rescue,  it  is  invaluable ;  because  it  is,  on  the  part  of 
him  who  takes  it,  a  complete  removal  of  himself  from 
the  sphere  of  temptation,  and  so  long  as  he  holds 
himself  away  from  the  touch  and  taste  of  liquor,  he 
is  safe.  If  the  pledge  will  enable  him  to  do  this, 
then  the  pledge  will  save  him.  But  it  is  well  known, 
from  sad  experience,  that  only  a  few  are  saved  by  the 
pledge.  The  strength  that  saves  must  be  something 
more  than  the  external  bond  of  a  promise ;  it  must 
come  from  within,  and  be  grounded  in  a  new  and 
changed  life,  internally  as  well  as  externally.  If  the 
reformed  man,  after  he  takes  his  pledge,  does  not 
endeavor  to  lead  a  better  moral  life — does  not  keep 
himself  away  from  old  debasing  associations — does 
not  try,  earnestly  and  persistently,  to  become,  in  all 
things, 

A  TRUER,  PURER,  NOBLER  MAN, 

then  his  pledge  is  only  as  a  hoop,  that  any  over- 
strain may  break,  and  not  an  internal  bond,  holding 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  5Q1 

in  integrity  all  things  from  the  centre  to  the  cir- 
cumference of  his  life. 

So  well  is  this  now  understood,  that  little  reliance 
is  had  on  the  pledge  in  itself,  though  its  use  is  still 
general.  It  is  regarded  as  a  first  and  most  impor- 
tant step  in  the  right  direction.  As  the  beginning 
of  a  true  and  earnest  effort  on  the  part  of  some  un- 
happy soul  to  hreuk  the  bonds  of  a  fearful  slavery. 
But  few  would  think  of  leaving  such  a  soul  to  the 
saving  power  of  the  pledge  alone.  If  other  help 
came  nut,  the  effort  would  be,  except  in  rare  cases, 
too  surely,  all  in  vain. 

The  need  of  something  more  reliable  than  a  sim- 
ple pledge  has  led  to  other  means  of  reform  and 
cure,  each  taking  character  and  shape  from  the 
peculiar  views  of  those  who  have  adopted  them. 
Inebriate  Asylums  and  Reformatory  Homes  have 
1 " ' -n  established  in  various  parts  of  the  country,  and 
through  their  agency  many  \\lio  were  once  enslaved 
by  drink  are  being  restored  to  society  and  good 
citi/enship.  In  what  is  popularly  known  as  the 
"Gospel  Temperance"  movement,  the  weakness  of 
the  pledge,  in  itself,  is  recognized,  and,  "God  being 
my  helper,"  is  declared  to  be  the  ultimate  and  only 
sure  dependence. 

It  is  through  this  abandonment  of  all  trust  in  the 
pledge,  beyond  a  few  exceptional  cases,  that  re- 
fiinnatory  work  rises  to  its  true  sphere  and  level  of 
success.  And  we  shall  now  endeavor  to  show  what 
is  being  done  in  the  work  of  curing  drunkards,  as 


502  STRONG  DRINK; 

well  in  asylums  and  Reformatory  Homes,  as  by  the 
so-called  "Gospel"  methods.  In  this  we  shall,  as 
far  as  possible,  let  each  of  these  important  agencies 
speak  for  itself,  explaining  its  own  methods  and 
giving  its  own  results.  All  are  accomplishing  good 
in  their  special  line  of  action ;  all  are  saving  men 
from  the  curse  of  drink,  and  the  public  needs  to  be 
more  generally  advised  of  what  they  are  doing. 


CHAPTER 

INEBRIATE   ASYLUMS. 

careful  observation  and  study  of  inebri- 
-•-  ety  by  medical  men,  during  the  past  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  years,  as  well  in  private  practice  as  in 
hospitals  and  prisons,  has  led  them  to  regard  it  as, 
in  inaiiy  of  its  phases,  a  disease  needing  wise  and 
careful  treatment.  To  secure  such  treatment  was 
seen  to  be  almost  impossible  unless  the  subject  of 
intemperance  could  be  removed  from  old  associations 
and  influences,  and  placed  under  new  conditions,  in 
which  there  would  be  no  enticement  to  drink,  and 
where  the  means  of  moral  and  physical  recovery 
could  be  judiciously  applied.  It  was  felt  that,  as  a 
di.-i-a.se,  the  treatment  of  drunkenness,  while  its 
suhjeci  remained  in  the  old  atmosphere  of  tempta- 
tion, was  as  dim* cult,  if  not  impossible,  as  the  treat- 
in*  -nt  of  a  malarious  fever  in  a  miasmatic  district. 
The  result  of  this  view  was  the  establishment  of 
Inebriate  Asylums  for  voluntary  or  enforced  seclu- 
sion, first  in  the  United  States,  and  afterwards  in 
England  and  some  of  her  dependencies. 

In  the  beginning,  these  institutions  did  not  have 
inui-h  favor  with  the  public;  and,  as  the  earlier 
methods  of  treatment  pursued  therein  were,  for  the, 


504  STRONG  DRINK; 

most  part,  experimental,  and  based  on  a  limited 
knowledge  of  the  pathology  of  drunkenness,  the 
beneficial  results  were  not  large.  Still,  the  work 
went  on,  and  the  reports  of  cures  made  by  the  New 
York  State  Asylum,  at  Binghampton,  the  pioneer 
of  these  institutions,  were  sufficiently  encouraging 
to  lead  to  their  establishment  in  other  places ;  and 
there  are  now  in  this  country  as  many  as  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  public  and  private  institutions  for 
the  treatment  of  drunkenness.  Of  these,  the  New 
York  State  Inebriate  Asylum,  at  Binghamton ;  the 
Inebriate  Home,  at  Fort  Hamilton,  Long  Island ; 
and  the  Home  for  Incurables,  San  Francisco,  Cal., 
are  the  most  prominent.  At  Hartford,  Conn.,  the 
Walnut  Hill  Asylum  has  recently  been  opened  for 
the  treatment  of  inebriate  and  opium  cases,  under 
the  care  of  Dr.  T.  D.  Crothers.  The  Pinel  Hospital, 
at  Richmond,  Va.,  chartered  by  the  State,  in  1870, 
is  for  the  treatment  of  nervous  and  mental  diseases, 
and  for  the  reclamation  of  inebriates  and  opium- 
eaters.  In  Needham,  Mass.,  is  the  Appleton  Tem- 
porary Home,  where  a  considerable  number  of 
inebriates  are  received  every  year. 

Besides  these,  there  are  private  institutions,  in 
which  dypsomaniac  patients  are  received.  The 
methods  of  treatment  differ  according  to  the  views 
and  experience  of  those  having  charge  of  these 
institutions.  Up  to  this  time  a  great  deal  of  the  treat- 
ment has  been  experimental ;  and  there  is  still  much 
difference  of  opinion  among  physicians  and  super- 


THE  CURSE  AM)  THE  CURE.  505 

intendents  in  n-^ard  to  the  best  moans  of  cure.  But, 
cm  t\v<>  important  points,  nil  ;iro  nearly  in  agreement. 
Tin-  first  is  in  the  necessity  for  an  immediate  and 

ABSOLUTE  WITHDRAWAL  OF  ALL  INTOXICANTS  FROM 
THE  PATIENT, 

MM  matter  how  long  he  may  have  used  them;  and 
the  second  in  the  necessity  of  his  entire  abstinence 
therefrom  after  leaving  the  institution.  The  cure 
never  places  a  man  back-  where  he  was  before  he  be- 
came subject  to  the  disease  ;  and  he  can  never,  after 
his  recovery,  taste  even  the  milder  forms  of  alcoholic 
beverage  without  l<  in<j  exposed  to  the  most  iimniiK  nt 
danger  of  relapse. 

The  great  value  of  an  asylum  where  the  victim 
of  intemperance  can  be  placed  for  a  time  beyond 
the  reach  of  alcohol  is  thus  stated  by  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter: ••  Vain  is  it  to  recall  the  motives  for  a  better 
course  of  conduct,  to  one  who  is  already  familiar 
with  them  all,  but  is  destitute  of  the  will  to  act  upon 
them  ;  tin-  seclusion  of  such  persons  from  the  reach 
of  alcoholic  liquors,  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time 
to  free  the  blood  from  its  contumimttinn,  to  ret 
tin  h<  (ildtfiil  nnlrilinn  of  the  bruin-  and  to  cimltlc 
tin-  recovered  tu<nlnl  ri>/»r  in  lc  iri*<ly  dire-fid, 
seems  to  afford  the  only  prospect  of  reformation : 
and  this  cannot  be  expected  to  be  permanent,  unlos 
the  patient  determinate!}'  adopts  and  steadily  acts 
on  the  resolution  to  abstain  from  that  which,  \fu<jnln 
i/t</ 1//</«[  in,  icill  I" putti'ii,  nlikc  In  ///x  body  and  to 
///.<  in i ml.'' 


506  STRONG  DRINK; 

In  the  study  of  inebriety  and  the  causes  leading 
thereto,  much  important  information  has  been  gath- 
ered by  the  superintendents  and  physicians  con- 
nected with  these  establishments.  Dr.  D.  G.  Dodge, 
late  Superintendent  of  the  New  York  State  Inebri- 
ate Asylum,  read  a  paper  before  the  American  As- 
sociation for  the  Cure  of  Inebriates,  in  1876,  on 
"Inebriate  Asylums  and  their  Management,"  in 
which  are  given  the  results  of  many  years  of  study, 
observation  and  experience.  Speaking  of  the  causes 
leading  to  drunkenness,  he  says : 

"  Occupation  has  a  powerful  controlling  influence 
in  developing  or  warding  off  the  disease.  In-door 
life  in  all  kinds  of  business,  is  a  predisposing 
cause,  from  the  fact  that  nearly  the  whole  force  of 
the  stimulant  is  concentrated  and  expended  upon 
the  brain  and  nervous  system.  A  proper  amount  of 
out-door  exercise,  or  labor,  tends  to  throw  off  the 
stimulus  more  rapidly  through  the  various  func- 
tional operations  of  the  system.  Occupation  of  all 
kinds,  mental  or  muscular,  assist  the  nervous  system 
to  retard  or  resist  the  action  of  stimulants — other 
conditions  being  equal.  Want  of  employment,  or 
voluntary  idleness  is  the  great  nursery  of  this  dis- 
ease. 

TOBACCO. 

"  The  use  of  tobacco  predisposes  the  system  to  al- 
coholism, and  it  has  an  effect  upon  the  brain  and 
nervous  system  similar  to  that  of  alcohol.  The  use 
of  tobacco,  if  not  prohibited,  should  be  discouraged. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  507 

The  treatment  of  inebriates  can  never  be  wholly 
successful  until  the  use  of  tobacco  in  all  forms  is 
absolutely  dispensed  with. 

"Statistics  show  that  inebriety  oftenest  prevails 
between  the  ayes  of  ih  irty  and  forty-five.  The  habit 
seldom  culminate*  until  thirty,  the  subject  to  this 
age  generally  being  a  moderate  drinker ;  later  in 
life  the  system  is  unable  to  endure  the  strain  of  a 
continued  course  of  dissipation. 

"  Like  all  hereditary  diseases,  intemperance  is 
transmitted  from  parent  to  child  as  much  as  scrofula, 
gout  or  consumption.  It  observes  all  the  laws  in 
transmitting  disease.  It  sometimes  overleaps  one 
generation  and  appears  in  the  succeeding,  or  it  will 
miss  even  the  third  generation,  and  then  reappear 
in  all  its  former  activity  and  violence.  Hereditary 
inebriety,  like  all  transmissible  diseases,  gives  the 
least  hope  of  permanent  cure,  and  temporary  relief 
is  all  that  can  generally  be  reasonably  expected. 

"Another  class  possesses  an  organization  which 
may  be  termed  an  alcoholic  idiosyncrasy  ;  with  them 
the  latent  desire  for  stimulants,  if  indulged,  soon 
leads  to  habits  of  intemperance,  and  eventually  to  a 
morbid  appetite,  which  has  all  the  characteristics  of  a 
diseased  condition  of  the  system,  which  the  patient, 
unn—Med,  is  powerless  to  relieve,  since  the  weakness 
of  will  that  led  to  the  disease  obstructs  its  removal. 

"The  second  class  may  be  subdivided  as  lulluws; 
Fir-t,  those  who  have  had  healthy  an<l  temperate 
parents,  and  have  been  educated  ami  aecu.-toim  .1  to 


508  STRONG  DRINK; 

good  influences,  moral  and  social,  but  whose  tem- 
perament and  physical  constitution  are  such  that 
when  they  once  indulge  in  the  use  of  stimulants, 
which  they  find  pleasurable,  they  continue  to  habitu- 
ally indulge  till  they  cease  to  be  moderate,  and  be- 
come excessive  drinkers.  A  depraved  appetite  is 
established  that  leads  them  on  slowly,  but  surely,  to 
destruction. 

"  Temperaments  have  much  to  do  with  the  for- 
mation of  the  habit  of  excessive  drinking.  Those 
of  a  nervous  temperament  are  less  likely  to  contract 
the  habit,  from  the  fact  that  they  are  acutely  sensi- 
tive to  danger,  and  avoid  it  while  they  have  the 
power  of  self-control.  On  the  other  hand,  those  of 
a  bilious,  sanguine  and  lymphatic  temperament, 
rush  on,  unmindful  of  the  present,  and  soon  become 
slaves  to  a  depraved  and  morbid  appetite,  powerless 
to  stay,  or  even  to  check  their  downward  course." 

As  we  cannot  speak  of  the  treatment  pursued  in 
inebriate  asylums  from  personal  observation,  we 
know  of  no  better  way  to  give  our  readers  correct 
impressions  on  the  subject,  than  to  quote  still  farther 
from  Dr.  Dodge.  "For  a  better  understanding," 
he  says,  "  of  the  requisite  discipline  demanded  in 
the  way  of  remedial  restraint  of  inebriates,  we  notice 
some  of  the  results  of  chronic  inebriation  affecting 
more  particularly  the  brain  and  nervous  system — 
which,  in  addition  to  the  necessary  medical  treat- 
ment, necessitates  strict  discipline  to  the  successful 
management  of  these  cases. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CTA/'.  509 

RESULTS  OF  CHRONIC  INEBRIATION. 

"We  have  alcoholic  epilepsy,  alcoholic  mania, 
d<  liriu/n  tremcns,  tremors,  hallucinations,  insomnia, 
<jo,  mental  and  muscular  debility,  impa irnunt 
of  rixion,  mental  depression,  paralysis,  a  partial  or 
total  loss  of  self-respect  and  a  departure  of  the 
power  of  self -control.  Many  minor  difficulties  ari>e 
i'n>m  mere  functional  derangement  of  the  brain  and 
IHTVOUS  system,  which  surely  and  rapidly  disappear 
when  the  cause  is  removed." 

The  general  rule,  on  the  reception  of  a  patient,  is 
t<>  i  ut  off  at  once  and  altogether  the  use  of  alcohol 
in  every  form.  "More,"  says  the  doctor,  "can  he 
done  by  diet  and  medicine,  than  can  be  obtained  by 
a  compromise  in  the  moderate  use  of  stimulant 
a,  limited  period."  It  is  a  mistake,  he  adds,  to  sup- 
pose "  that  any  special  danger  arises  from  stopping 
the  accustomed  stimulus.  Alcohol  is  a  poison,  and 
we  should  discontinue  its  use  at  once,  as  it  can  be 
done  with  safety  and  perfect  impunity,  except  in 


rare  cases." 


To  secure  all  the  benefits  to  be  derived  from  medi- 
cal treatment,  "  we  should  have,"  says  Dr.  Dodge, 
P  institutions  for  the  reception  of  inebriates,  where 
total  abstinence  can  be  rigidly,  but  judiciously  en- 
forced for  a  sufficient  length  of  time,  to  test  the 
curative  powers  of  absolute  restraint  from  all  intoxi- 
cating drinks.  When  the  craving  for  stimulants  is 
".stil.lr,  it  is  useless  to  make  an  attempt  to  re- 
claim and  cure  the  drunkard,  unless  tlte  (/<  Unl'. 


510  STRONG  DRINK; 

compulsory,  and  there  is  complete  restraint  from  all 
spirituous  or  alcoholic  stimulants." 

REMOVAL  FROM  TEMPTATION. 

In  regard  to  the  compulsory  power  that  should 
inhere  in  asylums  for  the  cure  of  drunkenness,  there 
is  little  difference  of  opinion  among  those  who  have 
had  experience  in  their  management.  They  have 
more  faith  in  time  than  in  medicine,  and  think  it  as 
much  the  duty  of  the  State  to  establish  asylums  for 
the  treatment  of  drunkenness  as  for  the  treatment  of 
insanity.  "  The  length  of  time  necessary  to  cure 
inebriation,"  says  Dr.  Dodge,  "  is  a  very  important 
consideration.  A  habit  covering  five,  ten,  fifteen  or 
twenty  years,  cannot  be  expected  to  be  permanently 
eradicated  in  a  week  or  a  month.  The  fact  that 
the  excessive  use  of  stimulants  for  a  long  period  of 
time  has  caused  a  radical  change,  physically,  men- 
tally and  morally,  is  not  only  the  strongest  possible 
proof  that  its  entire  absence  is  necessary,  but,  also, 
that  it  requires  a  liberal  allowance  of  time  to  effect 
a  return  to  a  normal  condition.  The  shortest  period 
of  continuous  restraint  and  treatment,  as  a  general 
rule,  should  not  be  less  than  six  months  in  the  most 
hopeful  cases,  and  extending  from  one  to  two  years 
with  the  less  hopeful,  and  more  especially  for  the 
class  of  periodical  drinkers,  and  those  with  an 
hereditary  tendency." 

A  well-directed  inebriate  asylum  not  only  affords, 
says  the  same  authority,  "  effectual  removal  of  the 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  51 1 

nt  from  temptations  and  associations  which 
surrounded  him  in  the  outer  world,  but  by  precept 
and  example  it  teat-lies  him  that  he  can  gain  by  his 
mation,  not  the  ability  to  drink  moderately  and 
with  the  lea^t  safety,  lut  tJie power  to  abstain  alto- 
(/<  tin  r.  With  the  restraint  imposed  by  the  institu- 
tion, and  the  self-restraint  accepted  on  the  part  of 
the  patient,  are  remedial  agents  from  the  moment 
he  enters  the  asylum,  growing  stronger  and  more 
rift-dive  day  by  day,  until  finally  he  finds  total  ab- 

"•'  n»t  only  possible,  but  permanent.  With 
this  much  gained  in  the  beginning,  the  asylum  is 
JIM -pa  red  to  assist  in  the  cure  by  all  the  means  and 
appliances  at  its  command.  With  the  co-operation 
of  the  patient,  and  such  medicinal  remedies  and  hy- 
gienic and  sanitary  measures  as  may  be  required,  the 

h<>i>cful  results  may  be  confidently  looked  for. 

Till:  HYGIENIC  AND  SANITARY  MEASURES 

-t  in  total  abstinence  from  all  alcoholic  bever- 
ages; good  nourishing  diet;  well  ventilated  rooms; 
pure,  bracing  air;  mental  rest,  and  proper  bodily 
exercise.  *  *  Every  patient  should  be  re- 

quired to  conform  to  all  rules  and  regulations 
wliich  have  for  their  object  the  improvement  of  his 
social,  moral  and  religious  condition.  He  must 
begin  a  diilerent  mode  of  life,  by  breaking  up 
former  habits  and  associations;  driving  from  the 
mind  the  old  companions  of  an  intemperate  life; 
forming  new  thoughts,  new  ideas  and  new  and 


STRONG  DRINK; 

better  habits,  which  necessitates  a  new  life  in  every 
respect.  This  is  the  aim  and  object  of  the  rules  for 
the  control  and  government  of  inebriates.  To  assist 
in  this  work,  inebriate  institutions  should  have 
stated  religious  services,  and  all  the  patients  and 
officers  should  be  required  to  attend  them,  unless 
excused  by  the  medical  officer  in  charge,  for  sick- 
ness, or  other  sufficient  cause." 

THE  BINGHAMPTON  ASYLUM. 

Of  all  the  inebriate  asylums  yet  established,  the 
one  at  Binghampton,  New  York,  has  been,  so  far, 
the  most  prominent.  It  is  here  that  a  large  part 
of  the  experimental  work  has  been  done ;  and  here, 
we  believe,  that  the  best  results  have  "been  ob- 
tained. This  asylum  is  a  State  Institution,  and  will 
accommodate  one  hundred  and  twenty  patients.  In 
all  cases  preference  must  be  given  to  "indigent 
inebriates,"  who  may  be  sent  to  the  asylum  by 
county  officers,  who  are  required  to  pay  seven  dol- 
lars a  week  for  the  medical  attendance,  board  and 
washing,  of  each  patient  so  sent.  Whenever  there 
are  vacancies  in  the  asylum,  the  superintendent  can 
admit,  under  special  agreement,  such  private  patients 
as  may  seek  admission,  and  who,  in  his  opinion, 
promise  reformation. 

The  building  is  situated  on  an  eminence  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  above  the  Susquehanna  River,  the 
scenery  stretching  far  up  and  down  the  valley, 
having  features  of  uncommon  beauty  and  grandeur. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  Cl 

Kadi  patient  lias  a  thoroughly  warmed  and  venti- 
lated room,  which,  from  the  peculiar  situation  of  the 
house,  commands  a  wide  view  of  the  adjoining 
country.  The  tables  are  supplied  with  a  variety 
and  abundance  of  good  food,  suitable  in  every  re- 
spect to  the  wants  of  the  patients,  whose  tastes  and 
needs  are  carefully  considered.  Amusements  of 
various  kinds,  including  billiards,  etc.,  are  provided 
within  the  building,  which  afford  pleasure  and 
profit  to  the  patients.  Out-door  pastimes,  such  as 
games  of  ball  and  croquet,  and  other  invigorating 
shorts,  are  encouraged  and  practised.  The  asylum 
grounds  embrace  over  four  hundred  acres,  part  of 
which  are  in  a  state  of  cultivation.  The  remainder 
diversified  in  character,  and  partly  consisting  of 
fen 

Gentlemen  who  desire  to  place  themselves  under 
the  care  of  the  asylum,  may  enter  it  without  any 
other  formality  than  a  compliance  with  such  condi- 
tions as  may  be  agreed  upon  between  themselves 
and  the  superintendent.  The  price  of  adm! 

•s  according  to  location  of  rooms  and  attention 
required.  Persons  differ  so  widely  in  their  circum- 
stances and  desires,  that  the  scale  of  prices  has  been 
fixed  at  f rn m  ten  to  twenty-live  dollars  per  week, 
which  includes  board,  medical  attendance,  washing, 
etc.  In  all  cases  the  price  of  board  for  three  months 
must  he  paid  in  advance. 

From  one  of  the  annual  reports  of  this  institu- 
tion now  before  u-,  we  Karn  that  the  number  of 


514  STRONG  DRINK; 

patients  treated  during  the  year  was  three  hundred 
and  thirty-six,  of  whom  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
eight  "  were  discharged  with  great  hopes  of  perma- 
nent reformation."  Fifty-eight  were  discharged 
unimproved.  The  largest  number  of  patients  in 
the  asylum  at  one  time  was  a  hundred  and  live. 

SAVING  AND  REFORMING  INFLUENCES. 

Of  those  discharged — two  hundred  and  fifty-six  in 
number — eighty-six  were  of  a  nervous  temperament, 
ninety-eight  sanguine  and  seventy-two  bilious.  In 
their  habits,  two  hundred  and  thirty-four  were  social 
and  twenty-two  solitary.  Out  of  the  whole  number, 
two  hundred  and  forty-four  used  tobacco — only 
twelve  being  free  from  its  use.  Of  these,  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  had  been  constant  and  ninety-six 
periodical  drinkers.  Serious  affliction,  being  un- 
fortunate in  business,  love  matters,  prosperity,  etc., 
were  given  as  reasons  for  drinking  by  one  hundred 
and  two  of  the  patients.  One  hundred  and  twenty- 
two  had  intemperate  parents  or  ancestors.  One 
hundred  and  forty  were  married  men  and  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  single.  Their  occupations  were 
varied.  Merchants,  fifty-eight ;  clerks,  thirty-five ; 
lawyers,  seventeen ;  book-keepers,  sixteen ;  manufac- 
turers, eight;  bankers  and  brokers,  eight;  machin- 
ists, seven ;  mechanics,  six ;  farmers,  six ;  clergy- 
men, five ;  editors  and  reporters,  five,  etc. 

In  regard  to  some  of  the  special  influences  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  patients  in  this  institution,  we  have 


THE  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE. 

tho  following.  It  is  from  a  communication  (in  an- 
swer to  a  letter  of  inquiry)  received  by  us  from  Dr. 
T.  D.  Crothers,  formerly  of  Binghampton,  but  now 
•npermtendent  of  the  new  Walnut  Hill  Asylum, 
at  1  lart  ford,  Connecticut :  "  You  have  failed  to  do  us 
credit,"  he  says,  "  in  supposing  that  we  do  not  use  the 
spiritual  forces  in  our  treatment.  We  depend  largely 
upon  them.  We  have  a  regularly-appointed  chap- 
lain who  lives  in  the  building,  and  gives  his  entire 
time  to  the  religious  culture  of  the  patients.  .  Rev. 
l)r.  Hush  was  with  us  eight  years.  He  died  a  few 
months  ago.  He  was  very  devoted  to  his  work, 
and  the  good  he  did,  both  apparent  to  us  and  un- 
known, was  beyond  estimate.  His  correspondence 
was  very  extensive,  and  continued  for  years  with 
patients  and  their  families.  He  was  the  counselor 
and  adviser  of  many  persons  who  did  not  know  him 
personally,  but  through  patients.  I  have  seen  letters 
to  him  from  patients  in  all  conditions  asking  counsel, 
both  on  secular  and  spiritual  matters;  also  the  most 
heart-rending  appeals  and  statements  of  fathers, 
mothers,  wives  and  children,  all  of  which  he  reli- 
giously answered.  He  urged  that  the  great  duty 
and  obligation  of  every  drunkard  was  to  take  care 
of  his  body  ;  to  build  up  all  the  physical,  to  avoid 
all  danger,  and  take  no  risks  or  perils;  that  his 
only  help  and  reliance  were  on  God  and  good  Itcnlilt; 
that  with  regular  living  and  healthy  surroundings, 
and  a  mind  full  of  faith  and  hope  in  spiritual  reali- 
ties, the  disorder  would  die  out.  Our  new  chaplain 


516  STRONG  DRINK; 

holds  daily  service,  as  usual,  and  spends  much  of 
his  time  among  the  patients.  Pie  lives  ia  the  build- 
ing, pronounces  grace  at  the  table  and  is  personally 
identified  as  a  power  to  help  men  towards  recovery. 
Quite  a  large  number  of  patients  become  religious 
men  here.  Our  work  and  its  influences  have  a 
strong  tendency  this  way.  I  believe  in  the  force  of 
a  chaplain  whose  daily  walk  is  with  us ;  who,  by 
example  and  precept,  can  win  men  to  higher 
thoughts.  He  is  the  receptacle  of  secrets  and  much 
of  the  inner  life  of  patients  that  physicians  do  not 
reach." 

In  another  letter  to  us,  Dr.  Crothers  says:  "  Every 
asylum  that  I  know  of  is  doing  good  work,  and 
should  be  aided  and  encouraged  by  all  means.  The 
time  has  not  come  yet,  nor  the  experience  or  study 
to  any  one  man  or  asylum,  necessary  to  build  up  a 
system  of  treatment  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others. 
We  want  many  years  of  study  by  competent  men, 
and  the  accumulated  experience  of  many  asylums 
before  we  can  understand  the  first  principles  of  that 
moral  and  physical  disorder  we  call  drunkenness. 

TREATMENT. 

"As  to  the  treatment  and  the  agents  governing  it, 
we  recognize  in  every  drunkard  general  debility  and 
conditions  of  nerve  and  brain  exhaustion,  and  a  cer- 
tain train  of  exciting  causes  which  always  end  in 
drinking.  Now,if  we  can  teach  these  men  the  'sources 
of  danger/  and  pledge  them  and  point  them  to  a 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

higher  power  for  help,  we  combine  both  spiritual  and 
physical  means.  We  believe  that  little  can  be  ex- 
pected from  spiritual  aids,  or  pledges,  or  resolves,  un- 
less the  patient  can  so  build  up  his  physical  as  to 
su-tain  them.  Give  a  man  a  healthy  body  and  brain- 
power, and  you  can. build  up  his  spiritual  life;  but  all 
attempts  to  cultivate  a  power  that  is  crushed  by  dis- 
eased forces  will  be  practically  useless.  Call  it  a  vice 
or  a  disease,  it  matters  not,  the  return  to  health 
must  be  along  the  line  of  natural  laws  and  means. 
Some  iiu-n  will  not  feel  any  longing  for  drink  unless 
they  get  in  the  centre  of  excitement,  or  violate  some 
natural  law,  or  neglect  the  common  means  of  health. 
Now,  teach  them  these  exciting  causes,  and  build  up 
their  health,  and  the  pledge  will  not  be  difficult  to 
keep.  This  asylum  is  a  marvel.  It  is,  to-day,  suc- 
cessful. Other  asylums  are  the  same,  and  we  feel 
that  we  are  working  in  the  line  of  laws  that  are 
fixed,  though  obscure." 

DEEPLY  INTERESTING  CASEa 

The  records  of  this  institution  furnish  cases  of 
reform  of  the  most  deeply  interesting  character. 
1 1  ere  are  a  few  of  them: 

CASE  No.  1.  A  Southern  planter  who  had  be- 
come a  drunkard  was  brought  to  this  asylum  by  his 
faithful  colored  man.  In  his  fits  of  intoxication  he 
tell  into  the  extraordinary  delusion  that  his  devoted 
wife  was  unfaithful ;  and  so  exa-jx-ratcd  did  he  be- 
come when  seized  by  tliia  insane  delusion,  that  he 


518  STRONG  DRINK; 

often  attempted  her  life.     She  was  at  last  obliged  to 
keep  out  of  his  way  whenever  he  came  under  the 
influence  of  liquor.     When  sober,  his  memory  of 
these  hallucinations  was  sufficiently  distinct  to  fill 
him  with  sorrow,  shame  and  fear ;  for  he  sincerely 
loved  his  wife  and  knew  her  to.be  above  reproach. 
After  the  war,  during  which  he  held  the  position  of 
a  general  in  the  Southern  army,  he  became  very 
much  reduced  in  his  circumstances,  lost  heart  and 
gave  himself  up  to  drink.     The  friends  of  his  wife 
tried  to  prevail  on  her  to  abandon  him ;  but  she 
still  clung  to  her  husband,  though  her  life  was  often 
in  danger  from  his  insane  passion.     Four  years  of 
this  dreadful  experience,  in  which  she  three  times 
received  serious  personal  injuries  from  his  hands, 
and  then  the  old  home  was  broken  up,  and  he  went 
drifting  from  place  to  place,  a  human  ship  without 
a  rudder  on  temptation's  stormy  sea ;  his  unhappy 
wife  following  him,  more  or  less,  in  secret,  and  often 
doing  him  service  and  securing  his  protection.     In 
the  spring  of  1874,  his  faithful  colored  man  brought 
him  to  the  asylum  at  Binghampton,  a  perfect  wreck. 
His  wife  came,  also,  and  for  three  months  boarded 
near  the  institution,  and,  without  his  knowledge, 
watched  and  prayed  for  him.     After  a  few  weeks' 
residence,  the  chaplain  was  able  to  lead  his  mind  to 
the  consideration  of  spiritual  subjects,  and  to  im- 
press him  with  the  value  of  religious  faith  and  the 
power  of  prayer.     He  became,  at  length,  deeply 
interested ;  read  many  religious  books,  and  particu- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CTHF.. 

larly  tlie  Bible.  At  the  end  of  three  months  his 
wife  came  to  see  him,  and  their  meeting  was  of  a 
most  affecting  character.  A  year  later,  he^  left 
the  asylum  and  went  to  a  Western  city,  where  he 
now  resides — a  prosperous  and  happy  man. 

CASE  No.  2.  A  clergyman  of  fortune,  position 
and  education  lost  his  daughter,  and  began  to  drink 
iu  order  to  drown  his  sorrow.  It  was  in  vain  that 
his  wife  and  friends  opposed,  remonstrated,  implored 
and  persuaded ;  he  drank  on,  the  appetite  steadily 
increasing,  until  he  became  its  slave.  His  congre- 
gation dismissed  him ;  his  wife  died  of  a  broken 
heart ;  he  squandered  his  fortune ;  lost  his  friends, 
and,  at  last,  became  a  street  reporter  for  some  of  the 
New  York  papers,  through  means  of  which  he 
picked  up  a  scanty  living.  From  bad  to  worse,  he 
swept  down  rapidly,  and,  for  some  offense  committed 
while  drunk,  was,  at  last,  sent  for  three  months  to 
the  State  prison.  On  coming  out,  and  returning  to 
the  city,  he  became  a  fish-peddler,  but  continued  to 
drink  desperately.  One  day  he  was  picked  up  in 
the  street  in  a  state  of  dead  intoxication  and  takrn 
to  the  hospital,  where  he  was  recognized  by  the 
doctor,  who  had  him  sent  to  Binghamptoo  as  a 
county  patient  Here  he  remained  for  over  a  year, 
submitting  himself  to  the  regime,  and  coming  under 
the  salutary  influences  of  the  institution,  and  making 
an  carnc-t,  prayerful  and  determined  effort  at  re- 
form. At  the  end  of  this  period  he  loll  the  asylum 
to  enter  ujxm  the  duties  of  a  minister  in  the  far 


520  STXOXG  DZISL'; 

West;  and  to-day  he  is  the  president  of  a  new  college, 
and  a  devout  and  earnest  man !  He  attributes  his 
cure  to  the  influence  of  the  late  chaplain,  Rev.  Mr. 
Bush,  and  to  the  new  life  he  was  able  to  lead  under 
the  protecting  influences  and  sanitary  regulations  of 
the  asylum.  This  is  a  meagre  outline  of  a  very 
remarkable  case. 

CASE  No.  3.  A  poor  farmer's  boy  acquired, 
while  in  the  army,  an  inordinate  appetite  for  drink. 
He  was  sent  to  the  New  York  Inebriate  Asylum, 
but  was  expelled  because  he  made  no  effort  to  reform. 
Six  months  afterwards  he  joined  a  temperance  so- 
ciety, and  kept  sober  for  a  year ;  but  fell,  and  was 
again  sent  to  the  asylum.  This  time  he  made  an 
earnest  effort,  and  remained  at  the  asylum  for  seven 
months,  when  he  was  offered  a-  situation  in  Chicago, 
which  he  accepted.  For  a  year  he  held  this  place, 
then  relapsed  and  came  back  to  the  asylum,  where 
he  stayed  for  over  twelve  months.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  he  returned  to  Chicago  and  into  his  old 
situation.  He  is  now  a  member  of  the  firm,  and  an 
active  temperance  man,  with  every  prospect  of  re- 
maining so  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

THE  CARE  AND  TREATMENT  OF  DRUNKARDS. 

• 

The  subject  of  the  care  and  treatment  of  habitual 
drunkards  is  attracting  more  and  more  attention. 
They  form  so  large  a  non-producing,  and  often  vicious 
and  dangerous  class  of  half-insane  men,  that  con- 
siderations of  public  and  private  weal  demand  the 


Tin:  cunsE  AXD  Tin:  < 

ifation  of  some  el'iecim-  DH-MIS  for  their  refor- 
mation, control  or  restraint.  Legislative  aid  has 
invoke*!,  and  laws  submitted  and  discus-ed  ; 
but,  so  far,  beyond  sentences  of  brief  imprisonment 
in  jails,  asylums  and  houses  of  correction,  but  little 
has  really  been  done  for  the  prevention  or  cure  of 
the  worst  evil  that  inflicts  our  own  and  other  civil- 
i/rd  nations.  On  the  subject  of  every  man's  "lib- 
erty to  get  drunk,"  and  waste  his  substance  and 
abuse  and  beggar  his  family,  the  public  mind  is 
peculiarly  sensitive  and  singularly  averse  to  restrict- 
ive legislation.  But  a  public  sentiment  favorable  to 
such  legislation  is  steadily  gaining  ground ;  and  to 
the  formation  and  growth  of  this  sentiment,  many 
leading  and  intelligent  physicians,  both  in  this 
country  and  Great  Britain,  who  have  given  the 
subject  of  drunkenness  as  a  disease  long  and  careful 
attention,  are  lending  all  their  influence.  It  is  seen 
that  a  man  who  habitually  gets  drunk  is  dangerous 
to  society,  and  needs  control  and  restraint  as  much 
as  it'  lie  were  insane. 

LEGISLATIVE  CONTROL. 

In  1875,  a  deputation,  principally  representative 
of  the  medical  profession,  urged  upon  the  British 
niment  the  desirability  of  measures  for  the 
control   and    management  of   habitual   drunkards. 
On  presenting  the  memorial  to  the  Secretary  <>f  > 
for  the  Home  Department,  Sir  Thomas  Wa; 
M.D.,  observed :  "That  during  his  very  long  pro- 


£22  STRONG  DRINK; 

fessional  life  lie  had  been  incredulous  respecting  the 
reclamation  of  habitual  drunkards ;  but  his  late  ex- 
perience had  made  him  sanguine  as  to  their  cure, 
with  a  very  considerable  number  of  whom  excessive 
drinking  indulged  in  as  a  vice,  developed  itself  into 
a  most  formidable  bodily  and  mental  disease." 

In  the  early  part  of  February,  1877,  "A  Bill  to 
Facilitate  the  Control  and  Care  of  Habitual  Drunk- 
ards," was  introduced  into  the  House  of  Commons. 
It  is  supposed  to  embody  the  latest  and  most  practical 
methods  of  dealing  legally  with  that  class,  and  is  of 
unusual  interest  from  the  fact  that  it  was  prepared 
under  the  direction  of  a  society  for  the  promotion  of 
legislation  for  the  cure  of  habitual  drunkards,  re- 
cently organized  in  London,  in  which  are  included 
some  of  the  most  learned,  influential  and  scientific 
men  of  the  Kingdom. 

This  bill  provides  for  the  establishment  of  retreats 
or  asylums,  public  or  private,  into  which  drunkards 
may  be  admitted  on  their  own  application,  or  to 
which  they  may  be  sent  by  their  friends,  and  where 
they  can  be  held  by  law  for  a  term  not  exceeding 
twelve  months. 

In  the  State  of  Connecticut,  there  is  a  law  which 
may  be  regarded  as  embodying  the  most  advanced 
legislation  on  this  important  subject.  The  first 
section  is  as  follows : 

"  Whenever  any  person  shall  have  become  an 
habitual  drunkard,  a  dypsomaniac,  or  so  far  addicted 
to  the  intemperate  use  of  narcotics  or  stimulants  as 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  503 

to  have  lost  the  power  of  self-control,  the  Court  of 
Probate  for  the  district  in  which  such  person  resides, 
or  has  a  legal  doraicil,  shall,  on  application  of  a 
majority  of  the  selectmen  of  the  town  where  such 
person  resides,  or  has  a  legal  domicil,  or  of  any 
relative  of  such  person,  make  due  inquiry,  and  if  it 
shall  find  such  person  to  have  become  an  habitual 
drunkard,  or  so  far  addicted  to  the  intemperate  use 
of  narcotics  or  stimulants  as  to  have  lost  the  power 
of  self-control,  then   said  court  shall  order  such 
person  to  be  taken  to  some  inebriate  asylum  within 
this  Stale,  for  treatment,  care  and  custody,  for  a 
term  not  less  than  four  months,  and  not  more  than 
twelve  months;  but  if  said  person  shall  be  found  to 
be  a  dypsomaniac,  said  term  of  commitment  shall 
be  for  the  period  of  three  years:  provided,  Ii<»r<  r<  r, 
that  the  Court  of  Probate  shall  not  in  either  case 
make  such  order  without  the  certificate  of  at  least 
two  respectable  practising  physicians,  after  a  per- 
sonal examination,  made  within  one  week  before  the 
time  of  said  application  or  said  commitment,  which 
certificate  shall  contain  the  opinion  of  said  physi- 
cians that  such  person  has  become,  as  the  case  may 
be,  a  dypsomaniac,  an  habitual  drunkard,  or  has,  by 
reason  of  the  intemperate  use  of  narcotics  or  stimu- 
lants, lost  the  power  of  self-control,  and  requires 
the  treatment,  care  and  custody  of  some  inebriate 
asylum,  and  shall  be  subscribed  and  sworn  to  by 
said  physicians  before  an  authority  empowered  to 
administer  oaths." 


524  STRONG  DRINK; 

LOSS  TO  THE  STATE  IN  NOT  ESTABLISHING  ASYLUMS. 

In  a  brief  article  in  the  Quarterly  Journal  of 
Inebriety,  for  1877,  Dr.  Dodge  thus  emphasizes 
his  views  of  the  importance  to  the  State  of  estab- 
lishing asylums  to  which  drunkards  may  be  sent  for 
treatment :  "  Every  insane  man  who  is  sent  to  an 
asylum,  is  simply  removed  from  doing  harm,  and 
well  cared  for,  and  rarely  comes  back  to  be  a  pro- 
ducer again.  But  inebriates  (the  hopeful  class) 
promise  immeasurably  more  in  their  recovery.  They 
are,  as  inebriates,  non-producers  and  centres  of  dis- 
ease, bad  sanitary  and  worse  moral  surroundings. 
All  their  career  leads  down  to  crime  and  poverty. 
The  more  drunkards,  the  more  courts  of  law,  and 
almshouses,  and  insane  asylums,  and  greater  the  taxes. 
Statistics  show  that  from  fifty  to  sixty  per  cent,  of 
crime  is  due  to  drunkenness ;  and  we  all  know  how 
large  poverty  is  due  to  this  cause.  Drunkenness  is 
alone  responsible  for  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  per 
cent,  of  all  our  insane. 

"  We  assert,  and  believe  it  can  be  proved,  that 
reclaiming  the  drunkard  is  a  greater  gain  to  the 
State,  practical  and  immediate,  than  any  other 
charity. 

"  It  is  a  low  estimate  to  say  it  costs  every  county 
in  the  State  three  hundred  dollars  yearly  to  support 
a  drunkard ;  that  is,  this  amount,  and  more,  is  di- 
verted from  healthy  channels  of  commerce,  and  is, 
practically,  lost  to  the  State.  At  an  inebriate  asy- 
lum, but  little  over  that  amount  would,  in  a  large 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  Cl'IlK.  525 

majority  of  cases,  restore  them  as  active  producers 
again. 

"  Figures  cannot  represent  the  actual  lass  to  so- 
t-it ty,  nor  can  we  compute  the  gain  from  a  single 

case  enrol  ami  returned  to  normal  life  and  useful- 

• 

ness.  Inebriety  is  sapping  the  foundation  of  our 
'•rnment,  both  State  and  National,  and  unless  we 
can  provide  means  adequate  to  check  it,  we  shall 
leave  a  legacy  of  physical,  moral  and  political  dis- 
ease to  our  descendants,  that  will  ultimately  wreck 
this  country.  Inebriate  asylums  will  do  much  to 
cheek  and  relieve  this  evil." 

We  conclude  this  chapter,  which  is  but  an  im- 
ct  presentation  of  the  work  of  our  inebriate 
asylums,  by  a  quotation  from  the  Quarterly  Jour- 
nal of  Inebriety,  for  September,  1877.  This  peri- 
odical is  published  under  the  auspices  of  "  The 
American  Association  for  the  Cure  of  Inebri. 
The  editor,  Dr.  Crothers,  says:  "We  publish  in 
this  number,  reports  of  a  large  number  of  asylums 
from  all  parts  of  the  country,  indicating  jjjreat  pros- 
y  and  success,  notwithstanding  the  depression 
of  the  times.  Among  the  patients  received  at  these 
asylums,  broken-down  merchants,  hankers,  business 
men,  who  are  inebriates  of  recent  date,  and  chronic 
cases  that  have  been  niotlrrair  drinkers  for  many 
years,  seem  to  be  more  numerous.  The  explanation 
is  found  in  the  peculiar  times  in  which  so  many  of1 
the  business  men  are  ruined,  and  the  discharge  of 
a  class  of  employees  whose  uncertain  habits  and 


526  STRONG  DRINK; 

want  of  special  fitness  for  their  work  make  them 
less  valuable.  Both  of  these  classes  drift  to  the 
inebriate  asylum,  and,  if  not  able  to  pay,  finally  go 
to  insane  hospitals  and  disappear. 

"  Another  class  of  patients  seem  more  prominent 
this  year,  namely,  the  hard-working  professional 
and  business  men,  who  formerly  went  away  to  Eu- 
rope, or  some  watering-place,  with  a  retinue  of 
servants ;  now  they  appear  at  our  retreats,  spend  a 
few  months,  and  go  away  much  restored.  The  out- 
look was  never  more  cheery  than  at  present,  the 
advent  of  several  new  asylums,  and  the  increased 
usefulness  of  those  in  existence,  with  the  constant 
agitation  of  the  subject  among  medical  men  at  home 
and  abroad,  are  evidence  of  great  promise  for  the 
future.  Of  the  Journal  we  can  only  say  that,  as  the 
organ  of  the  American  Association  for  the  Cure  of 
Inebriates,  it  will  represent  the  broadest  principles 
and  studies  which  the  experience  of  all  asylums 
confirm,  and  independent  of  any  personal  interest, 
strive  to  present  the  subject  of  inebriety  and  its 
treatment  in  its  most  comprehensive  sense." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

REFORMATORY    HOMES. 

DIFFERING  in  some  essential  particulars  from 
inebriate  asylums  or  hospitals  for  the  cure  of 
drunkenness  as  a  disease,  are  the  institutions  called 
••Homes."  Their  name  indicates  their  character. 
It  is  now  about  twenty  years  since  the  first  of  these 
was  established.  It  is  located  at  41  Waltham  Street, 
Boston,  in  an  elegant  and  commodious  building  re- 
cently erected,  and  is  called  the  "  Washingtonian 
Home."  The  superintendent  is  Dr.  Albert  Day. 
In  18G3,  another  institution  of  this  character  came 
into  existence  in  the  city  of  Chicago.  This  is  also 
called  tin;  "  Washingtonian  Home."  It  is  situated 
in  \Vest  Madison  Street,  opposite  Union  Park.  The 
building  is  lar^v  and  handsomely  fitted  up,  and  has 

niuodations  for  over  one  hundred  inmates. 
Prof.  D.  Wilkins  is  the  superintendent.  In  1872 
"The  Franklin  Reformatory  Home,"  of  Philadel- 
phia, was  established.  It  is  located  at  Nos.  911, 
'.'!:;  and  015  Locust  Street,  in  a  well-arranged  and 

'Uglily-furnished    building,   in    which    all    the 
comforts  of  a  home  may  be  found,  and  can  accom- 
modate over  seventy  persons.     Mr.  John  Graff  is 
the  superintendent. 
627 


528  STRONG  DRIXK; 

As  we  have  said,  the  name  of  these  institutions 
indicates  their  character.  They  are  not  so  much 
hospitals  for  the  cure  of  a  disease,  as  homes  of  refuge 
and  safety,  into  which  the  poor  inebriate,  who  has 
lost  or  destroyed  his  own  home,  with  all  its  good 
and  saving  influences,  may  come  and  make  a  new 
effort,  under  the  most  favoring  influences,  to  recover 
himself. 

The  success  which  has  attended  the  work  of  the 
three  institutions  named  above,  has  been  of  the  most 
gratifying  character.  In  the 

WASHINGTONIAN  HOME  AT  BOSTON, 

drunkenness  has  been  regarded  as  a  malady,  which 
may  be  cured  through  the  application  of  remedial 
agencies  that  can  be  successfully  employed  only 
under  certain  conditions;  and  these  are  sought  (o 
be  secured  for  the  patient.  The  home  and  the  hos- 
pital are,  in  a  certain  sense,  united.  "  While  we  are 
treating  inebriety  as  a  disease,  or  a  pathological  con- 
dition," says  the  superintendent,  in  his  last  report, 
"  there  are  those  who  regard  it  as  a  species  of  wick- 
edness or  diabolism,  to  be  removed  only  by  moral 
agencies.  Both  of  these  propositions  are  true  in  a 
certain  sense.  There  is  a  difference  between  sin 
and  evil,  but  the  line  of  demarkation  is,  as  yet,  ob- 
scure, as  much  so  as  the  line  between  the  responsi- 
bility and  irresponsibility  of  the  inebriate." 

Doubtless,  the  good  work  done  in  this  excellent 
institution  is  due,  in  a  large  measure,  to  the  moral 


THE  CL'RSE  A.\D  THE  CURE.  509 

ami  religious  influences  under  which  the  inmates 
are  brought.  Nature  is  quick  to  repair  physical 
waste  and  deterioration,  when  the  exciting  causes  of 
disease  are  removed.  The  diseased  body  of  the 
drunkard,  as  soon  as  it  is  relieved  from  the  poison- 
ing influence  of  alcohol,  is  restored,  in  a  measure,  to 
health.  The  brain  is  clear  once  more,  and  the  moral 
faculties  again  able  to  act  with  reason  and  con- 
science. And  here  comes  in  the  true  work  of  the 
Homo,  which  }s  the  restoration  of  the  man  to  a 
of  rational  self-control ;  the  quickening  in  his 
heart  of  old  affections,  and  the  revival  of  old  and 
better  desires  and  principles. 

BENEFICIAL  RESULTS. 

"Among  the  beneficial  results  of  our  labor,"  says 
Dr.  Day,  "  we  see  our  patients  developing  a  higher 
principle  of  respect  for  themselves  and  their  friends. 
This,  to  us,  is  of  great  interest.  We  see  indications 
convincing  us  that  the  mind,  under  our  treatment, 
awakens  to  a  consciousness  of  what  it  is,  and  what 
it  is  made  for.  We  see  man  becoming  to  himself  a 
higher  object,  and  attaining  to  the  conviction  of  the 
equal  and  indestructible  of  every  being.  In  them 
we  see  the  dawning  of  the  great  principle  advocated 
by  us  continually,  viz.,  That  the  individual  is  not 
made  to  be  the  instrument  of  others,  but  to  govern 
himself  by  an  inward  law,  and  to  advance  towards 
his  projxT  jkerieciions  ;  that  In-  hdon^.s  to  him.-elf 
ami  to  (Jod,  and  to  no  human  superior.  In  all  our 

ol 


530  STRONG  DRINK; 

teachings  we  aim  to  purify  and  ennoble  the  charac- 
ter of  our  patients  by  promoting  in  them  true  virtue, 
strong  temperance  proclivities  and  a  true  piety ;  and 
to  accomplish  these  ends  we  endeavor  to  stimulate 
their  own  exertions  for  a  better  knowledge  of  God, 
and  for  a  determined  self-control." 

And  again  he  says :  "Almost  every  day  we  hear 
from  some  one  who  has  been  with  us  under  treat- 
ment, who  has  been  cured.  Their  struggles  had 
been  fierce,  and  the  battle  sometimes  would  seem  to 
be  against  them  ;  but,  at  last,  they  have  claimed  the 
victory.  In  my  experience,  I  have  found  that  so 
long  as  the  victim  of  strong  drink  has  the  will, 
feeble  as  it  may  be,  to  put  forth  his  efforts  for  a 
better  life,  and  his  constant  struggle  is  in  the  right 
direction,  he  is  almost  sure  to  regain  his  will  power, 
and  succeed  in  overcoming  the  habit.  By  exercise, 
the  will  gains  strength.  The  thorns  in  the  flesh  of 
our  spiritual  nature  will  be  plucked  out,  the  spiritual 
life  will  be  developed,  and  our  peace  shall  flow  as 
the  river.  This  condition  we  constantly  invoke, 
and  by  all  the  means  within  our  reach  we  try  to 
stimulate  the  desire  for  a  better  life.  I  am  pleased 
to  say  our  efforts  in  this  direction  have  not  been  in 
vain.  For  nearly  twenty  years  we  have  been  en- 
gaged in  this  work,  and  we  have  now  more  confi- 
dence in  the  means  employed  than  at  any  other 
period.  Situated,  as  we  are,  in  the  midst  of  a  great 
city,  with  a  Christian  sympathy  constantly  active 
and  co-operating  with  us,  no  one  can  remain  in  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

institution  without  being  the  recipient  of  beneficial 
influences,  the  effect  of  which  is  salutary  in  the  ex- 
tivme.  I  am  fully  satisfied  that  the  '  Washington  ian 
Home'  is  greatly  indebted  to  these  moral  agencies  for 
its  success." 

The  following  letter,  received  by  us,  from  Otis 
C'lapp,  who  has  been  for  sixteen  years  president 
of  the  "  Washingtonian  Home,"  will  give  the  reader 
a  still  clearer  impression  of  the  workings  of  that 
institution.  It  is  in  answer  to  one  we  wrote,  asking 
for  information  about  the  institution  in  which  he 
had  been  interested  for  so  many  years : 

"  BOSTON,  August  9th,  1877. 

"  DEAR  SIR  : — Your  letter  is  received,  and  I  am  glad  to 
learn  that  your  mind  is  directed  to  the  subject  of  the  curse 
ami  c-ure  of  drunkenness.  This  is  one  of  the  largest  of  human 
fields  to  work  in.  The  '  Washingtonian  Home '  was  com- 
menced in  a  very  humble  way,  in  November,  1857.  An  act  of 
incorporation  was  obtained  from  the  State,  March  26th,  1859. 

"The  institution  has,  therefore,  been  in  existence  nearly 
twenty  years.  My  connection  with  it  has  been  for  eighteen 
yean — sixteen  years  as  president  During  the  period  of  its 
existence  the  whole  number  of  patients  has  been  five  thou- 
sand three  hundred  and  forty-eight.  Of  this  number,  tho 
superintendent,  Dr.  Day,  estimates  the  cured  at  one-half.  Of 
the  remainder,  it  is  estimated  that  one-half,  making  one-quar- 
ter of  the  whole,  are  greatly  improved. 

'  You  say,  '  I  take  the  general  ground,  and  urge  it  strongly 
upon  the  reader  that,  without  spiritual  help — regeneration,  in  a 
word — there  w,  for  the  confirmed  inebriate,  but  little  hope,  and 
no  true  safety.' 

this  I  fully  concur.     I  believe  in  using  all  the  agencies 
— medical,  social,  moral  and  religious — to  bear  upon  the  pa- 


532  STEONO  DRINK; 

ticnt,  and  to  encourage  him  to  follow  the  '  straight  and  narrow 
way.'  With  this  view,  a  morning  service  is  held  each  day  ;  a 
Sunday  evening  service  at  six  o'clock,  and  every  Friday  even- 
ing a  meeting,  where  patients  relate  their  experience,  and  en- 
courage each  other  in  gaining  power  over  the  enemy.  I 
have  had  much  experience  and  abundant  evidence  that  ilicM- 
meetings  are  of  great  value,  for  the  reason  that  the  patients 
are  the  principal  speakers,  and  can  do  more  to  "encourage  each 
other  than  those  outside  of  their  own  ranks.  These  meetings 
arc  usually  attended  by  about  equal  numbers  of  both  sexes, 
and,  with  fine  music,  can  be  kept  up  with  interest  indefinitely. 

"It  would  be,  in  my  judgment,  a  matter  of  wide  economy 
for  the  intelligent  citizens  of  every  city,  with  twenty  thousand 
or  more  inhabitants,  to  establish  a  home,  or  asylum  for  ine- 
briates. Let  those  who  favor  sobriety  in  the  community,  take 
a  part  in  it,  and  they  will  soon  learn  how  to  reach  the  class 
who  needs  assistance.  A  large,  old-fashioned  house  can  be 
leased  at  small  expense,  and  the  means  raised  by  contributions 
of  money  and  other  necessary  articles  to  start.  The  act  of 
doing  this  will  soon  enable  those  engaged  in  the  work  to  learn 
what  the  wants  are,  and  how  to  meet  them.  It  is  only  obeying 
the  command,  '  Go  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges  and  com- 
pel them  to  come  in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled.'  This  is 
the  Master's  work,  and  those  who  hear  this  invitation,  as  well 
as  those  who  accept  it,  will  share  in  its  blessings. 

"  Those  who  cultivate  the  spirit  of  '  love  to  God,  and  good- 
will to  their  fellow-men,'  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  much 
easier  it  is  to  do  these  things  when  they  try,  than  when  they 
only  think  about  them. 

"Much,  of  course,  depends  upon  the  superintendent,  who 
needs  to  possess  those  genial  qualities  which  readily  win  the 
confidence  and  good-will  of  patients,  and  which  he  readily 
turns  to  account,  by  encouraging  them  to  use  the  means  which 
the  Creator  has  given  them  to  co-operate  in  curing  themselves. 
The  means  of  cure  are  in  the  patient's  own  hands,  and  it  is 
quite  a  gift  to  be  able  to  make  him  see  it" 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  533 

THE  WASIIINT-.TONIAN  HOME  AT  CHICAGO 

ia  on  the  same  plan,  in  all  essential  respects,  with 
that  of  Boston ;  and  the  reports  show  about  the 
same^average  of  cures  and  beneficial  results.  How 
the  patient  is  treated  in  this  Home  may  be  inferred 
from  the  following  extract  from  an  article  on  "  The 
Cause,  Effect  and  Cure  of  Inebriety,"  from  the  pen 
of  Prof.  D.  Wilkins,  the  superintendent,  which 
appeared  in  a  late  number  of  The  Quarterly 
Journal  of  Inebriety.  In  answer  to  the  question, 
]  low  can  we  best  save  the  poor  drunkard,  and  restore 
him  to  his  manhood,  his  family  and  society,  he  says : 
"  Money,  friends,  relatives  and  all  have  forsaken 
him,  his  hope  blasted,  his  ambition  gone,  and  he  feels 
that  no  one  has  confidence  in  him,  no  one  cares  for 
him.  In  this  condition  he  wends  his  way  to  an  institu- 
tion of  reform,  a  penniless,  homeless,  degraded,  lost 
ami  hopeless  drunkard.  Here  is  our  subject,  how 
Khali  we  save  him?  He  has  come  from  the  squalid 
dnis,  and  lanes  of  filth,  of  misery,  of  want,  of  de- 
bauchery and  death;  no  home,  no  sympathy  and 
no  kind  words  have  greeted  him,  perhaps,  for  years. 
Ho  is  taken  to  the  hospital.  A  lew  days  pass,  and 
he  awakes  from  the  stupidity  of  drink,  and  as  he 
opens  liis  eyes,  what  a  change!  He  looks  around, 
kind  and  gentle  voices  welcome  him,  his  bed  is  clean 
and  soft,  the  room  beautiful,  tasteful  :md  pleasant  in 
its  arrangements,  the  superintendent,  the  physician, 
the  steward  and  the  inmates  meet  him  with  a  smile 
and  treat  him  as  a  brother.  lie  is  silent,  lost  in 


534  STRONG  DRIXK; 

meditation.  Thoughts  of  other  days,  of  other  years, 
pass  through  his  mind  in  quick  succession  as  the 
tears  steal  gently  down  his  cheeks.  He  talks  thus 
to  himself :  'lam  mistaken.  Somebody  does  care 
for  the  drunkard.  And  if  somebody  cares  for  me, 
/  ought  to  care  for  myself?  Here  reform  first  com- 
mences. In  a  few  days,  when  free,  to  some  extent, 
from  alcohol,  he  is  admitted  to  the  freedom  of  the 
institution.  As  he  enters  the  reading-room,  the 
library,  the  amusement,  the  gymnasium,  dining- 
room  and  spacious  halls,  the  conviction  becomes 
stronger  and  stronger  that  somebody  is  interested 
in  the  inebriate,  and  he  should  be  interested  in 
himself.  Then  comes  the  lessons  of  the  superin- 
tendent. He  is  taught  that  he  cannot  be  reformed, 
but  that  he  can  reform  himself.  That  God  helps 
those  only  who  help  themselves.  That  he  must  ignore 
all  boon  companions  of  the  cup  as  associates,  all 
places  where  liquor  is  kept  and  sold,  that,  in  order 
to  reform  himself,  he  must  become  a  reformer,  labor 
for  the  good  of  his  brother ;  in  short,  he  must  shun 
every  rivulet  that  leads  him  into  the  stream  of  in- 
temperance, and  as  a  cap-stone  which  completes. the 
arch,  that  he  must  look  to  Him  from  whence  conieth 
all  grace  and  power  to  help  in  time  of  need. 

"As  he  converses  with  those  that  are  strong  in 
experience,  listens  to  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures in  the  morning  devotions,  joins  in  the  sweet 
songs  of  Zion  and  unites  in  unison  with  his  brother 
inmates  in  saying  the  Lord's  Prayer,  as  he  hears  the 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

strong  experiences  in  the  public  meetings  and  secret 
associations  of  those  who  have  remained  firm  for 
one,  two,  three,  and  up  to  ten  or  fifteen  years,  little 
by  little  his  confidence  is  strengthened,  and  almost 
before  he  is  aware,  the  firm  determination  is  formed 
and  the  resolve  made,  /  will  drink  no  more.  As 
v  after  week,  and  month  after  month,  glides 
pleasantly  away,  these  resolutions  become  stronger 
and  stronger,  and  by  thus  educating  his  intellect 
and  strengthening  his  moral  power,  the  once  hope- 
less,  disheartened  and  helpless  one  regains  his  for- 
mer manhood  and  lost  confidence,  and  becomes  a 
moral, -independent,  reformed  man.  Perhaps  the 
most  difficult  thing  in  this  work  of  reform,  is  to 
convince  our  inmates  that  resolving  to  stop  drink- 
ing, or  even  stopping  drinking  for  the  time  being, 
is  not  reforming.  Those  admitted,  generally,  in 
about  two  weeks,  under  the  direction  of  a  skillful 
physician,  and  the  nursing  of  a  faithful  steward, 
recover  so  as  to  sleep  well  and  eat  heartily,  and 
their  wills,  seemingly,  are  as  strong  as  ever.  Feel- 
ing thus,  they  often  leave  the  institution,  sobered 
up,  not  reformed,  and  when  the  periodical  time 
arrives,  or  temptation  comes,  they  have  no  moral 
power  to  resist,  and  they  rush  back  to  habits  of 
intoxication.  They  forget  that  the  will  is  like  a 
door  on  its  hinges,  with  the  animal  desires,  appe- 
tites, evil  inclinations  and  passions  attached  to  one 
side,  leading  them  into  trouble  and  making  them 
unhappy,  unless  they  are  held  by  the  strong  power 


536  STRONG  DRINK; 

of  the  sense  of  moral  right  attached  to  the  other 
side,  and  that  for  years  they  have  been  stifling  and 
weakening  this  power,  until  its  strength  is  almost,  if 
not  entirely,  gone,  and  that  the  only  way  they  can 
possibly  strengthen  it,  independent  of  the  grace  of 
God,  is  by  education,  moral  light  and  testing  it 
under  circumstances  so  favorable  that  it  will  not 
yield.  It  took  years  of  disobedience  to  destroy  the 
moral  power,  and  it  will  take  years  of  obedience  to 
restore  it  again.  The  inebriate  must  be  taught  that 
he  can  refrain  from  drink  only  as  he  strengthens 
this  moral  power,  and  this  requires  time  and  trial. 
Here  is  just  where  wre,  as  superintendents,  or  re- 
formers, assume  great  responsibility.  To  under- 
stand just  when  to  test,  and  how  much  temptation 
can  be  resisted  by  those  under  our  charge,  requires 
much  wisdom  and  great  experience." 

From  this  extract  the  reader  will  learn  something 
of  the  influences  which  are  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
inmates  of  a  home  for  the  reformation  of  inebriates; 
and  he  will  see  how  much  reliance  is  placed  on 
moral  and  religious  agencies. 

TESTIMONY  OF  THE  BEFOKMED. 

From  the  Chicago  Home  is  issued  a  monthly 
paper  called  The  WasJungtonian,  devoted  to  the 
interest  of  the  institution  and  to  temperance.  In 
tliis  appear  many  communications  from  those  who 
are,  or  have  been,  inmates.  We  make  a  few  selections 
from  some  of  these,  which  will  be  read  with  interest : 


TUB  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl  537 

"  "When  I  came  into  the  Home,  mind,  memory, 
and  energy  were  shattered.  The  only  anima- 
ting thought  remaining  to  me  was  a  misty  specula- 
tion as  to  where  the  next  drink  was  to  come  from. 
I  had  a  kind  of  feeble  perception  that  a  few  days 
more  of  the  life  I  was  leading  must  end  my  earthly 
career,  but  I  didn't  care.  As  to  the  'hereafter* — 
that  might  take  care  of  itself;  I  had  no  energy  to 
make  any  provision  for  it. 

"To-day,  how  different!  A  new  man,  utterly 
defiant  of  the  devil  and  all  '  his  works  and  pomps/  I 
am  ready  and  eager  to  take  my  place  once  more  in 
the  battle  of  life  ;  atone  for  the  miserable  time  gone 
by ;  to  take  again  the  place  in  .the  world  I  had  for- 

1,  bearing  ever  in  my  breast  the  beautiful 
maxims  of  the  German  poet  and  philosopher,  Schil- 

'  Look  not  sorrowfully  into  the  past ;  it  comes 
not  back  again.  "Wisely  improve  the  present;  it  is 
thine.  Go  forth  to  meet  the  shadowy  future  with- 
out fear,  and  with  a  manly  heart." 

Another  writes :  "  I  have  been  true  and  faithful 
to  my  promise,  and  have  not  touched  or  tampered 
with  the  curse  since  the  first  morning  I  entered  the 
Home,  ten  months  ago  to-day,  and,  Mr.  Superint*  n 
dent,  I  shall  never  drink  again  as  long  as  I  live. 
My  whole  trust  and  hope  is  in  God,  who  made  me 

move  and  have  my  being;  and  as  long  as  I 
tni-t  in  Him — and  whieh  I  am  thoroughly  sati.-lirtl 
I  always  shall — I  will  be  crowned  with  success  in 
earh  ami  evt TV  goodeil'ort  I  make.  *  *  *  The  day 


538  STRONG  DRINK; 

I  reached  here,  my  little  ones  were  out  of  town,  but 
were  telegraphed  for  at  once.  They  came  in  the 
next  morning,  and,  oh !  how  my  heart  rejoiced  to 
see  they  knew  and  loved  me.  They  came  to  my 
arms  and  threw  their  little  arms  around  my  neck, 
and  hugged  and  kissed  me  until  I  wept  with  joy. 
They  begged  of  me  never  to  leave  them  again,  and 
I  never  shall.  My  dear  father,  mother  and  all  now 
wish  me  to  stay  with  them,  for  they  feel  I  can  now 
be  as  great  a  comfort  as  I  once,  I  might  say,  was  a 
terror  to  them.  Thank  God,  I  can  prove  a  comfort 
to  them,  and  my  daily  life  shall  be  such  that  they 
never  can  do  without  me.  Praises  be  to  God  for 
His  goodness  and  mercy  to  me,  and  for  showing 
and  guiding  me  in  the  straight  path,  that  which 
leadeth,  at  last,  to  an  everlasting  life  with  Him  and 
His  redeemed  in  that  great  and  glorious  kingdom 
above." 

Another  writes,  two  years  after  leaving  the  Home: 
"  In  different  places  where  I  lived,  I  was  generally 
a  moving  spirit  in  everything  of  a  literary  charac- 
ter, and,  from  a  naturally  social,  convivial  disposi- 
tion, enjoyed  the  conversation  and  society  of  literary 
men  over  a  glass  of  beer  more  than  any  other  at- 
traction that  could  have  been  presented.  For  years, 
this  continued,  I,  all  the  time,  an  active  spirit  in 
whatever  church  I  was  a  member  of,  and  an  active 
worker  in  whatever  I  engaged  in,  thereby  always 
commanding  a  prominent  position  wherever  I  was. 
Thus  matters  progressed  till  I  was  about  twenty- 


Till-:  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  539 

seven,  and  then  I  began  to  realize  my  position;  but, 
alas,  when  it  was  too  late.  The  kindly  admonition  of 
friends  and  my  own  intelligence  began  to  tell  me 
the  story,  and  then  how  I  struggled  for  months  and 
months — a  naturally  sensitive  nature  only  making 
me  worse — till,  at  last,  the  conviction  forced  itself 
upon  me  that,  for  me  there  was  no  redemption,  that 
I  wus  bound,  hand  and  foot,  perfectly  powerless, 
and  then  I  was  forced  to  accept  the  fact.  My  only 
•  •  then  was  to  save  those  dear  to  me  from  any 
knowledge  of  the  truth;  for  this  reason  I  chose 
Chicago  for  my  home.  Not  wishing  to  take  my  own 
life  in  my  hands,  I  was  simply  waiting  for  the  mo- 
ment when,  having  gone  lower  and  lower,  it  would, 
at  last,  please  God  to  relieve  me  of  my  earthly  suf- 
fr  rings.  Oh!  the  mental  agonies  I  endured  I  Too 
true  is  it  that  the  drunkard  carries  his  hell  around 
with  him.  At  any  moment  I  was  perfectly  willing 
to  die,  perfectly  willing  to  trust  whatever  might  be 
before  me  in  the  other  world,  feeling  it  could  be  no 
worse.  At  last,  by  God's  grace,  I  was  directed  to  the 
'  Washington ian  Home/  and  there,  for  the  first  time, 
I  K'urnrd  that  I  could  be  free;  and  in  this  knowledge 
lies  the  power  of  the  Home.  The  Home  took  hold  of 
me  and  bade  me  be  a  man,  and  directed  me  to  God 
for  help ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  told  me  to  work  out 
my  own  salvation.  Its  teachings  were  not  in  vain;  and 
to-day  I  can  look  up  and  ask  God's  blessing  on  you 
all  for  your  kind  labors.  But  for  that  Home,  I 
should,  to-day,  have  Uvii  filling  :i  dishonored  grave." 


540  STRONG  DRINK; 

And  another  says:  "It  is  now  over  five  years 
since  I  applied  to  Mr.  Drake  for  admission  to  the 
Home.  I  was  then  prostrated,  both  physically  and 
mentally,  to  that  degree  that  I  had  scarcely  strength 
to  drag  myself  along,  or  moral  courage  enough  to 
look  any  decent  man  in  the  face.  I  was  often  as- 
sured that  to  quit  whisky  would  kill  me.  I  thought 
there  was  a  probability  of  that ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  was  a  certainty  that  to  continue  it  would 
kill  me.  I  resolved  to  make  one  more  effort  and 
die  sober,  for  I  never  expected  to  live ;  had  no  hope 
of  that.  From  the  day  I  entered  the  Home  I  have 
been  a  changed  man.  The  encouragement  and 
counsel  I  received  there,  gave  me  strength  to  keep 
the  resolution  I  had  formed,  and  which  I  have 
kept  to  the  present  moment,  viz:  TO  DRINK  NO  MORE! 
Ever  since  I  left  Chicago,  I  have  held  a  respectable 
position ;  and  now  hold  the  principal  position  in  a 
house  of  business,  the  doors  of  which  I  was  forbid- 
den to  enter  six  years  ago.  I  do  not  write  this  in 
any  spirit  of  self-laudation,  but  simply  to  lay  the 
honor  where  it  belongs — at  the  door  of  the  '  Wash- 
ingtonian  Home/ ' 

The  following  from  the  "  experience "  of  one  of 
the  inmates  of  the  Chicago  "  Home,"  will  give  the 
reader  an  idea  of  the  true  character  of  this  and 
similar  institutions,  and  of  the  way  in  which  those 
who  become  inmates  are  treated.  A  lady  who  took 
an  interest  in  the  writer,  had  said  to  him,  "You  hud 


THE  CURSE  A.\D  THE  d  541 

>  to  the  Washingtonian  Home."    What  fol- 
lowed id  thus  related : 

HOW  I  WAS   TK MATED  IN  THE  HOME. 

"  I  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  Send  me  to  a  re- 
formatory? I  told  her  that  I  did  not  think  that  I 
was  sunk  so  low,  or  bound  so  fast  in  the  coils  of  the 
'worm  of  the  still,'  that  it  was  necessary  for  me,  a 
young  man  not  yet  entered  into  the  prime  of  man- 
hood, to  be  confined  in  a  place  designed  for  the  cure 
of  habitual  drunkards.  I  had  heard  vague  stories, 
but  nothing  definite  concerning  the  Home,  and 
thought  that  the  question  was  an  insult,  but  I  did 
not  reply  to  the  question.  All  that  night  my 
thoughts  would  revert  to  the  above  question.  My 
life  past  since  I  had  become  a  devotee  of  the 
'demon  of  strong  drink,'  passed  in  review  before 
my  mind.  What  had  I  gained?  How  improved? 
What  had  I  obtained  by  it?  And  the  answer  was 
nothing.  Then  I  asked  -myself,  What  had  I  lost 
by  it?  And  the  answer  came  to  me  with  crushing 
,  everything  that  maketh  life  desirable.  Start- 
ing out  young  in  years  into  the  busy  highways  of 
the  world,  with  a  good  fortune,  brigl it  prospects  and 
a  host  of  friends  to  aid  and  cheer  me  on,  I  had  lost 
ALL  in  my  love  for  strong  drink,  and  at  times  I 
thought  and  felt  that  I  was  a  modern  Ishmael. 

"The  lady,  the  next  morning,  again  returned  to 
the  attack,  jind  then,  not  thinking  it  an  insult,  but 
a  benefit,  to  be  conferred  on  me,  I  yielded  a  willing 


542  STRONG  DRINK; 

acquiescence.     That  same  evening,  with  a  slow  step 
and  aching  head,  I  walked  up  Madison  Street  to- 
wards the  Washingtonian  Home,  with  thoughts  that 
I  would  be  considered'  by  the  officers  of  the  institu- 
tion as  a  sort  of  a  felon,  or,  if  not  that,  at  least 
something  very  near  akin  to  the  brute,  and  it  was 
with  a  sinking  heart  that  I  pushed  open  the  main 
door  and  ascended  the  broad,  easy  stairs  to  the  office. 
I  asked  if  the  superintendent  was  in,  and  the  gen- 
tlemanly clerk  at  the  desk  told  me  that  he  was,  and 
would  be  down  immediately,  meanwhile  telling  me 
to  be  seated.     After  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes,  the 
superintendent,  Mr.  Wilkins,  came  into  the  office, 
his  countenance  beaming  with  benevolence.      He 
took  the  card  that  I  had  brought  with  me,  read  it, 
and,  turning  round  to  where  I  sat,  with  a  genial 
smile  lighting  up  his  countenance,  with  outstretched 
hand,  greeted  me  most  kindly  and  introduced  me  to 
the  gentlemen  present.     I  was  dumbfounded,  and 
it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I  restrained  myself 
from  shedding  tears.     It  was  the  very  opposite  of 
the  reception  that  I  had  pictured  that  I  would  re- 
ceive, and  I  found  that  I  was  to  be  treated  as  a  hu- 
man being  and  not  as  a  brute.     With  a  smile,  the 
superintendent  addressed  me  again,  and  told  me  to 
follow  him ;  and  it  was  with  a  lighter  heart  and 
spirits  that  I  ascended  the  second  flight  of  stairs 
than  the  first,  I  can  assure  you.     I  was  brought  to 
the  steward,  who  also  greeted  me  most  kindly,  con- 
versed with  me  a  short  time,  fixed  up  some  medi- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  543 

cine  for  me  and  tlion  took  me  into  the  hospital.  By 
the  word  '  hospital,'  dear  reader,  you  must  not  take 
the  usual  definition  of  all  that  word  implies,  hut  in 
tli is  case,  take  it  as  a  moderate-sized  room  with  eight 
or  nine  beds,  covered  with  snow-white  sheets  and 
coverlids,  and  filled  with  air  of  the  purest ;  no  sickly 
smells  or  suffering  pain  to  offend  the  most  delicate. 

"After  a  most  refreshing  night's  rest — the  first 
that  I  had  had  in  three  or  four  long,  weary  months — 
I  arose,  and  for  a  few  moments  could  not  realize 
where  I  was,  but  memory  came  back,  and  I  fell  on 
my  knees  and  gave  thanks  to  God  that  I  had  fa  Urn 
into  the  hands  of  the  'Good  Samaritans/  After 
breakfast,  I  went  with  great  diffidence  into  the 
common  sitting-room,  where  there  was  about  ten  of 
the  inmates  sitting  smoking,  playing  checkers,  etc. 
I  did  not  know  how  I  would  be  received  here,  but 
as  soon  as  I  entered  I  was  greeted  most  kindly  and 
told  to  make  myself  at  home.  It  seemed  as  if  my 
cup  was  full  and  running  over,  and  for  a  few  mo- 
ments I  could  scarcely  speak,  and  I  thought  that 
the  institution's  motto  must  be  founded  on  the 
Saviour's  command  to  'Love  one  another.1 

"  The  first  day  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  down  to 
the  dining-room,  I  still  being  under  the  care  of  the 
hospital  steward.  The  second  day  I  was  discharged 
from  the  hospital,  assigned  a  most  comfortable  and 
cheerful  furnished  bed-room,  and  allowed  the  liberty 
of  the  whole  building,  and  the  day  passed  pleasantly. 
The  next  morning,  at  about  six,  I  was  awakened  by 


544  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  clangor  of  a  bell  shaken  by  a  vigorous  arm. 
Hurriedly  dressing,  I  descended  to  the  wash-room 
and  performed  my  ablutions,  and  then  waited  for 
the  next  step.  Half  an  hour  having  elapsed,  the 
bell  was  rung  a  second  time,  and  we  all  entered 
what  is  called  the  service-room.  Shortly  after  Mr. 
Wilkins  and  his  family  entered ;  the  superintendent 
read  a  chapter  of  the  Bible,  the  inmates  sung  a 
hymn,  accompanied  on  the  organ  by  Miss  Clara 
Wilkins ;  after  a  short  prayer,  the  inmates  marched 
in  single  file  to  the  head  of  the  room,  where  Mr. 
Wilkins  stood,  his  kind  face  actually  beaming,  and 
with  extended  hand  greeted  every  individual  in- 
mate. After  leaving  him  we  marched  to  the  other 
side  of  the  room,  where  we  also  received  a  cheery 
'  good  morning,'  and  cordial  grasp  of  the  hand  from 
the  estimable  and  motherly  wife  of  the  superin- 
tendent. To  describe  one  day  is  sufficient  to  picture 
the  manner  in  which  the  inmates  of  the  Home  (and 
I  sincerely  believe  that '  home '  is  the  right  designa- 
tion for  it)  pass  their  time.  I  have  never  felt  hap- 
pier or  more  contented  even  in  my  most  prosperous 
days  than  I  have  in  these  few  short  days  that  I  have 
been  an  inmate  of  the  Washingtonian  Home." 

In  this  institution,  according  to  the  last  annual 
report,  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty-two 
persons  have  been  treated  since  it  was  opened.  Of 
these,  one  thousand  one  hundred  and  eighteen,  or 
over  sixty  per  cent.,  are  said  to  have  remained  sober, 
or  nearly  so,  up  to  this  time.  During  the  last  year 


Til K  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  5  |,} 

two  hundred  and  fifty-eight  patients  were  under 
treatment  (one-third  free  patients).  Of  these  only 
thirty  had  relapsed,  the  others  giving  great  promise 
of  recovery. 

The  Philadelphia  institution,  known  as  the 
"  FRANKLIN  REFORMATORY  HOME  FOR  INEBIATES," 
has  been  in  existence  over  five  years.  It  was  or- 
ganized in  April,  1872.  In  this  institution  intem- 
perance is  not  regarded  as  a  disease,  which  may  be 
cured  through  hygienic  or  medical  treatment,  but 
as  a  sin,  which,  must  be  repented  of,  resisted  and 
<>mc  through  the  help  of  God.  In  order  to 
place  the  inebriate,  who  honestly  desires  to  reform. 
and  lead  a  better  life,  under  conditions  most  favor- 
able to  this  work  of  inner  reformation  and  true 
recovery,  all  the  external  associations  and  comforts 
of  a  pleasant  home  are  provided,  as  with  the  two 
institutions  whose  record  of  good  results  has  just 
been  made.  Its  administrative  work  and  home-life 
vary  but  little  from  that  of  the  Homes  in  Boston 
and  ( 'hicago.  But  it  is  differenced  from  them  and 
other  institutions  which  have  for  their  aim  the  cure 
of  inebriety,  in  its  rejection  of  the  disease  theory, 
and  sole  reliance  on  moral  and  spiritual  agencies  in 
the  work  of  saving  men  from  the  curse  of  drink. 
It  says  to  its  inmates,  this  appetite  for  drink  is  not 
a  disease  that  medicine  can  cure,  or  change,  or 
(radicate.  New  sanitary  conditions,  removal  from 
temptations,  more  favorable  surroundings,  congenial 
occupation,  improved  health,  a  higher  self-respect, 
35 


546  STRONG  DRINK; 

a  sense  of  honor  and  responsibility,  and  the  tender- 
ness and  strength  of  love  for  wife  and  children,  may 
be  powerful  enough  as  motives  to  hold  you  always 
in  the  future  above  its  enticements.  But,  trusting 
in  these  alone,  you  can  never  dwell  in  complete 
safety.  You  need  a  deeper  work  of  cure  than  it  is 
possible  for  you  to  obtain  from  any  earthly  physi- 
cian. Only  God  can  heal  you  of  this  infirmity. 

A  BELIGIOUS  HOME. 

AVhile.  never  undervaluing  external  influences, 
and  always  using  the  best  means  in  their  power  to 
make  their  institution  a  home  in  all  that  the  word  im- 
plies, the  managers  have  sought  to  make  it  distinct- 
ively something  more — a  religious  home.  They  rely 
for  restoration  chiefly  on  the  reforming  and  regener- 
ating power  of  Divine  grace.  Until  a  man  is  brought 
under  spiritual  influences,  they  do  not  regard  him 
as  in  safety ;  and  the  result  of  their  work  so  far  only 
confirms  them  in  this  view.  They  say,  that  in 
almost  every  case  where  an  inmate  has  shown  him- 
self indifferent,  or  opposed  to  the  religious  influences 
of  the  Home,  he  has,  on  leaving  it,  relapsed,  after  a 
short  period,  into  intemperance,  while  the  men  who 
have  stood  firm  are  those  who  have  sought  help 
from  God,  and  given  their  lives  to  His  service. 

Under  this  view,  which  has  never  been  lost  sight 
of  from  the  beginning,  in  the  work  of  the  "  Franklin 
Home,"  and  which  is  always  urged  upon  those  who 
seek  its  aid  in  their  efforts  to  reform  their  lives, 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  .  547 

there  has  come  to  be  in  the  institution  a  pervading 
sentiment  favorable  to  a  religions  life  as  the  only 
safe  life,  and  all  who  are  brought  within  the  sphere 
of  its  influence  soon  become  impressed  with  the  fact. 
And  it  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  hopeful  of 
signs  when  the  new  inmate  is  drawn  into  accord 
with  this  sentiment,  and  as  a  most  discouraging  one 
if  he  sets  himself  in  opposition  thereto. 

WHO  ARE  RECEIVED  INTO  "THE  FRANKLIN  HOME." 

As  in  other  institutions,  the  managers  of  this  one 
have  had  to  gain  wisdom  from  experience.  They 
have  learned  that  there  is  a  class  of  drinking  men 
for  whom  efforts  at  recovery  are  almost  useless ;  and 
from  this  class  they  rarely  now  take  any  one  into 
the  Home.  Men  of  known  vicious  or  criminal 
lives  are  not  received.  Nor  are  the  friends  of  such 
tdulge  in  an  occasional  drunken  debauch  per- 
mitted to  send  them  there  for  temporary  seclusion. 
None  are  admitted  but  men  of  good  character,  in  all 
but  intemperance ;  and  these  must  be  sincere  and 
earnest  in  their  purpose  to  reform.  The  capacity 
of  an  institution  in  which  the  care,  and  service,  and 
protection  of  a  home  can  be  given,  is  too  small  for 
mere  experiment  or  waste  of  effort.  There  are  too 
many  who  are  anxious,  through  the  means  offered 
in  a  place  like  this,  to  break  the  chains  of  a  de- 
ng  habit,  and  get  back  their  lost  manhood  once 
more,  to  waste  effort  on  the  evil-minded  and  morally 
depraved,  who  only  seek  a  temporary  asylum  and 


548  STRONO  DRINK; 

the  opportunity  for  partial  recovery,  but  with  no 
purpose  of  becoming  better  men  and  better  citizens. 
Apart  from  the  fruitlessness  of  all  attempts  to  per- 
manently restore  such  men  to  sobriety,  it  has  been 
found  that  their  presence  in  the  Home  has  had  an 
injurious  effect;  some  having  been  retarded  in  re- 
covery through  their  influence,  and  others  led  away 
into  vicious  courses. 

There  is  a  chapel  in  the  building,  capable  of 
holding  over  two  hundred  person  In  this,  Divine 
worship  is  held  every  Sunday  afternoon.  A  minis- 
ter from  some  one  of  the  churches  is  usually  in 
attendance  to  preach  and  conduct  the  services.  It 
rarely  happens  that  the  chapel  is  not  well  filled 
with  present  and  former  inmates  of  the  Home,  their 
wives,  children  and  friends.  Every  evening,  at 
half-past  nine  o'clock,  there  is  family  prayer  in  the 
chapel,  and  every  Sunday  afternoon  the  president, 
Mr.  S.  P.  Godwin,  has  a  class  for  Bible  study  and 
instruction  in  the  same  place.  On  Tuesday  even- 
ings there  is  a  conversational  temperance  meeting ; 
and  on  Thursday  evening  of  each  week  the  Godwin 
Association,  organized  for  mutual  help  and  encour- 
agement, holds  a  meeting  in  the  chapel. 

USE  OF  TOBACCO  DISCOURAGED. 

The  attending  physician,  Dr.  Robert  P.  Harris, 
having  given  much  thought  and  observation  to  the 
effects  of  tobacco  on  the  physical  system,  and  its 
connection  with  inebriety,  discourages  its  use  among 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  549 

the  inmate?,  doing  all  in  his  power,  by  advice 
and  admonition,  to  lead  them  to  abandon  a  habit 
that  not  only  disturbs  arid  weakens  the  nervous 
forces,  but  too  often  produces  that  very  condition  of 
nervous  exhaustion  which  leads  the  sufferer  to  resort 
to  stimulation.  In  many  cases  where  men,  after 
leaving  the  "  Home,"  have  stood  firm  for  a  longer 
or  shorter  period  of  time,  and  then,  relapsing  into 
intemperance,  have  again  sought  its  help  in  a  new 
effort  at  reformation,  he  has  been  able  to  find  the 
cause  of  their  fall  in  an  excessive  use  of  tobacco. 

Dr.  Harris  is  well  assured,  from  a  long  study  of 
the  connection  between  the  use  of  tobacco  and  alco- 
hol, that,  in  a  very  large  number  of  cases  tobacco 
has  produced  the  nervous  condition  which  led  to 
inebriety.  And  he  is  satisfied  that,  if  men  who  are 
seeking  to  break  away  from  the  slavery  of  drink, 
will  give  up  their  tobacco  and  their  whisky  at  the 
game  time,  they  will  find  the  work  easier,  and  their 
ability  to  stand  by  their  good  resolutions,  far  greater. 
See  the  next  chapter  for  a  clear  and  concise  state- 
ment, from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Harris,  of  the  effects  of 
tobacco,  and  the  obstacles  its  use  throws  in  the  way 
of  men  who  are  trying  to  reform. 

WHAT  HAS  BEEN  ACCOMPLISHED. 

The  results  of  the  work  done  in  this  "  Home"  are 

of  the  most  satisfactory  kind.    From  the  fifth  annual 

rt,  we  learn  that  there  have  been  received  into 

the  Home,  since  its  commencement,  seven  hundred 


550  STRONG  DRINK; 

and  forty-one  persons.  Of  these,  the  report  gives 
three  hundred  and  fifty-four  as  reformed,  and  one 
hundred  and  three  as  benefited.  Two  hundred  and 
ninety-seven  were  free  patients. 

WOMAN'S  WOKK  IN  THE  HOME. 

In  the  management  of  this  Home  there  is,  beside 
the  board  of  directors,  an  auxiliary  board  of  twenty- 
six  lady  managers,  who  supervise  the  work  of  the 
Home,  and  see  to  its  orderly  condition  and  the 
comfort  of  the  inmates.  Through  visiting  and 
relief  committees  the  families  of  such  of  the  inmates 
as  need  temporary  care  and  assistance  are  seen,  and 
such  help  and  counsel  given  as  may  be  required. 
An  extract  or  two  from  the  reports  of  this 
auxiliary  board  will  not  only  give  an  idea  of  the 
religious  influences  of  the  institution,  but  of  what  is 
being  done  by  the  woman's  branch  of  the  work. 
Says  the  secretary,  Mrs.  E.  M.  Gregory,  in  her  last 
annual  report : 

"  The  religious  influence  exerted  by  this  institu- 
tion by  means  of  its  Sunday  evening  services,  its 
Bible  class  and  its  frequent  temperance  meetings, 
which  are  cordially  open  to  all,  is  silently,  but,  we 
think,  surely  making  itself  felt  among  those  brought 
within  its  reach,  and  establishing  the  highest  and 
strongest  bond  among  those  whose  natural  ties  are 
often  unhappily  severed  by  intemperance.  We  find 
whole  families,  long  unused  to  any  religious  observ- 
ance, now  regularly,  for  years,  accompanying  the 


T1IK  CURSE  AND  THE  CV11K.  55  \ 

husband  and  father  to  this  place  of  worship,  and 
joining  devoutly  in  the  exercises. 

"  Especial  emphasis  is  laid  upon  the  doctrine  that 
the  only  foundation  for  a  thorough,  enduring  re- 
formation is  found  in  a  radical  change  of  heart,  a 
preparation  for  the  future  life  by  a  conscientious, 
persistent  effort  to  lead  a  Christ-like  life  here. 

"  One  result  of  this  teaching  is  found  in  the  fact 
that  several  of  the  inmates,  not  in  the  first  pleasant 
excitement  of  their  rescue  from  the  immediate  hor- 
rors of  their  condition,  but  after  long  and  faithful 
ol»crvance  of  their  pledge  and  constant  attendance 
upon  the  religious  instruction  of  the  Home,  Live 
voluntarily  and  with  solemn  resolve  united  tlu-m- 
selves  to  some  Christian  church,  and  are  devoting  a 
large  share  of  their  time  and  means  to  the  work  of 
bringing  in  their  old  companions  to  share  this  great 
salvation.  "When,  in  our  visits  among  their  fami- 
lies, we  hear  of  those  who  formerly  spent  all  their 
earnings  at  the  saloon,  bringing  nothing  but  distress 
ami  terror  into  their  homes,  now  walking  the  streets 
all  day  in  search  of  work,  without  dinner  themselves, 
because  the  *  wife  and  children  need  what  little  there 
is  in  the  house ;'  and  another,  not  only  denying  him- 
self a  reasonable  share  of  the  scanty  food,  but  nursing 
a  sick  wife  and  taking  entire  care  of  the  children 
and  house,  hastening  out,  when  relieved  awhile  by 
a  kindly  neighbor,  to  do  '  anything  to  bring  in  a 
little  money* — when  we  see  changes  like  these,  ac- 
companied by  patience  and  cheerfulness,  and  a  gruw- 


552  STRONG  DRINK  f 

ing  sense  of  personal  responsibility,  we  thankfully 
accept  them  as  proofs  of  the  genuineness  of  the  work 
and  hopefully  look  for  its  continuance." 

TOUCHING  INCIDENTS. 

• 

In  a  previous  report,  speaking  of  the  visits  made 
to  the  families  of  inmates,  she  says : 

"  In  no  case  has  a  visit  ever  been  received  with- 
out expression  of  absolute  pleasure,  and  especially 
gratitude,  for  '  what  the  Home  has  done  for  me  and 
mine/ 

"Although,  unhappily,  there  are  instances  of  men 
haying,  through  stress  of  temptation,  violated  their 
pledges,  it  is  believed  that  not  one  case  has  occurred 
of  a  family,  once  brought  together  through  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Home,  again  being  separated  by  the 
return  to  intemperance  of  the  husband  and  father, 
and  the  results  of  their  faithfulness  are  to  be  seen  in 
the  growing  comfort  and  happiness  of  those  de- 
pendent on~  them. 

"An  aged  mother,  not  only  bowed  down  with  the 
weight  of  seventy  years,  but  heart-sick  with  the 
'hope  deferred'  of  ever  finding  her  intemperate  son, 
heard  of  him  at  last,  as  rescued  by  the  Home ;  and, 
being  brought  to  the  Sunday  and  evening  services, 
met  him  there, '  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind.'  The 
tears  streamed  down  her  face,  as  she  suid :  '  That 
man  is  forty  years  old,  and  I've  been  a  widow  ever 
since  he  was  a  baby,  and  I've  wept  over  him  often 
and  often,  and  to-day  I've  shed  tears  enough  to  bathe 


TIIE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  -,.-,;; 

him  from  head  to  foot,  but,  oh!  thank  the  Lord! 
are  such  h"i>py  tears!' 

"  Said  one  wife :  '  Some  days,  these  hard  times, 
we  have  enough  to  eat,  and  some  days  we  don't ; 
but  all  the  time  I'm  just  as  happy  as  I  can  be ! 

"  '  I  wish  you  could  see  my  children  run,  laugh- 
ing, to  the  door  when  their  father  comes  home.  Oh ! 
he  is  another  man  from  what  he  was  a  year  ago ; 
he  is  so  happy  at  home  with  us  now,  and  always  so 
patient  and  kind ! 

"  '  Do  tell  us  if  there  isn't  something — if  it  is  ever 
s«  little — that  we  women  can  do  for  the  Home ;  we 
never  can  forget  what  it  has  done  for  us !' 

"  Such  words,  heard  again  and  again  with  every 
variety  of  expression,  attests  the  sincerity  of  those 
who,  in  widely  differing  circumstances,  perhaps 
have  yet  this  common  bond,  that  through  this  in- 
strumentality, they  are  rejoicing  over  a  husband,  a 
father,  a  son,  *  which  was  dead,  and  is  alive — was 
lost,  and  is  found.' 

"Surely,  such  proof  of  the  intrinsic  worth  of  a 
work  like  this,  is  beyond  all  expression — full  of 
comfort  and  encouragement  to  persevere." 

Again :  "  Through  their  instrumentality  families 
long  alienated  and  separated  have  been  happily 
brought  together.  This  branch  of  the  ladies'  work 
has  been  peculiarly  blest;  and  their  reward  is  rich 
in  witnessing  not  only  homes  ma<le  haj>j»i<T  through 
their  labors,  but  hearts  so  inelte«l  by  their  personal 
kindness  and  by  the  Gospel  message  whieli  they 


554  STRONG  DRINK,- 

carry,  that  husbands  and  wives,  convicted  of  the 
sinfulness  of  their  neglect  of  the  great  salvation, 
come  forward  to  declare  themselves  soldiers  of.  the 
cross,  and  unite  with  the  Christian  church." 

THE  TESTIMONY  OF  INMATES. 

As  the  value  of  this  and  similar  institutions  is 
best  seen  in  what  they  have  done  and  are  doing,  we 
give  two  extracts  from  letters  received  from  men 
who  have  been  reformed  through  the  agency  of  the 
"Home"  in  Philadelphia.  In  the  first,  the  writer 
says : 

"  It  has  now  been  nearly  two  years  since  I  left  the 
Franklin  Home.  I  had  been  a  drinking  man  ten 
years,  and  it  got  such  a  hold  on  me  that  I  could  not 
resist  taking  it.  I  had  tried  a  number  of  times  to 
reform,  and  at  one  time,  was  in  the  Dashaway's 
Home,  in  California,  where  they  steep  everything 
in  liquor,  but  when  I  came  out  I  still  had  the  desire 
to  drink,  and  only  kept  from  it  for  nine  months.  I 
again  commenced,  and  kept  sinking  lower  and  lower, 
till  I  lost  my  friends,  and  felt  there  was  no  hope  for 
me.  On  the  31st  day  of  May,  1873, 1  came  to  the 
Franklin  Home,  and  have  never  tasted  intoxicating 
liquor  since,  which  is  the  longest  time  I  was  ever 
without  it  since  I  commenced  to  drink.  I  feel  now 
that  I  will  never  drink  again,  as  I  do  not  associate 
with  drinking  men,  or  go  to  places  where  liquor  is 
sold.  It  was  so  different  at  the  Home  from  any- 
thing I  had  ever  met  or  heard  of,  that  I  went  away 


TllK  CURSE  ASD  THE  CURE.  555 

with  more  strength  to  resist  than  ever  before.  When 
I  came  to  the  Home  I  could  not  get  a  position  in 
Philadelphia,  nobody  having  confidence  in  me. 
Since  then  I  have  been  engaged  as  foreman  in  a 
manufacturing  establishment,  by  the  very  man  that 
had  diaeharged  me  several  times  for  drinking,  and 
have  been  with  him  a  year.  I  feel  more  happy  and 
contented  now  than  any  time  in  ten  years  past,  and 
if  I  had  a  friend  who  I  found  this  was  taking  hold 
of,  I  would  bring  him  to  the  Home,  for  I  believe 
any  one  that  is  sincere  can  be  reformed,  and  I  would 
recommend  any  man  that  needs  and  desires  to  re- 
form to  go  to  the  Home,  as  I  did." 

AFTEB  FIVE  YEARS. 

Writing  to  Mr.  Samuel  P.  Godwin,  President  of 
the  Franklin  Home,  an  old  inmate,  five  years  after 
his  reformation,  says :  "  I  received  your  kind  letter 
and  recognized  in  it  the  challenge  of  the  ever- 
watchful  sentinel,  '  How  goes  the  night,  brother  ?' 
I  answer  back,  'All  is  well.'  I  am  delighted  to  hear 
of  the  continued  success  of '  my  second  mother,'  the 
Home,  and  the  Association,  my  brothers;  and  I 
thank  (io<l,  who  is  encouraging  you  all  in  your 
eilorts  for  fallen  men,  by  showing  you  the  ripening 
fruits  of  your  labor — efforts  and  labors  that  are  in- 
spired by  a  love  of  God  that  enables  you  to  see  in 
every  fallen  man  the  soul  made  like  unto  His  own 
image.  The  Home  and  all  its  workers,  its  princi- 
ples, the  nidless  and  untiring  eilorU  made,  challenge 


556  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  wonder  and  admiration  of  every  Christian  heart. 
Its  grand  results  will  admit  of  but  one  explanation, 
that '  It  is  God's  work/  We,  the  reclaimed,-  can 
never  give  expression  to  the  grateful  emotions  of  our 
hearts.  We  can  only  let  our  lives  be  its  best  eulogy. 
We  hope  to  vindicate  in  the  future,  as  we  have  in 
the  past,  (by  adhering  to  its  principles)  the  great 
Christian  truth,  the  grace  of  God  is  all-powerful,  all- 
saving.  Oh  !  what  has  not  the  Home  done  for  us  all! 
It  sought  us  amid  temptations,  misery  and  sorrow,  and 
took  us  into  its  warm  and  fond  embrace,  clearing 
away  the  debris  that  intemperance  and  misfortune 
had  piled  up,  tearing  down  all  false  theories  of  dis- 
ease and  seizing  our  convictions.  It  reached  down 
into  our  hearts  by  its  admirable  practical  mode  of 
imparting  its  principles,  impressing  all  its  lessons 
with  the  examples  of  living,  active  men,  who, 
through  its  aid,  accepting  its  teachings  and  practic- 
ing them,  have  become  reformed  men — in  a  word, 
conquerors  of  self.  By  its  love,  fostering  care  and 
ever-watchful  solicitude  for  us,  it  has  awakened  the 
lessons  of  love  and  faith  learned  at  a  dear  mother's 
knee  in  childhood,  which,  if  forgotten  for  a  time, 
were  never  entirely  dead,  and  required  but  just  such 
an  influence  to  warm  them  into  life.  It  enables  me 
to  say  to  you  now,  at  the  end  of  five  years,  I  have 
been  a  total  abstinence  man  for  that  time,  and  by 
and  with  the  help  of  God,  I  will  die  that." 

But  enough  has  been  educed  to  show  the  import- 
ance of  this  and  other  "  Homes  "  for  the  recovery 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE 

of  inebriates,  and  to  direct  public  attention  to  their 
great  value.  Those  already  established  should  be 
liberally  sustained  by  the  communities  in  which 
they  are  located,  and  similar  institutions  should  be 
organized  and  put  in  operation  in  all  the  larger 
cities  of  the  Union.  Thousands  of  outcast,  helpless, 
perishing  men,  who,  but  for  the  fatal  habits  they  have 
acquired,  would  be  good  and  useful  citizens,  might, 
it'  this  were  done,  be  every  year  restored  to  them- 
selves, their  families  and  to  society.  If  we  cannot, 
as  yet,  stay  the  curse  that  is  upon  our  land,  let  us 
do  all  in  our  power  to  heal  what  has  been  hurt,  and 
to  restore  what  has  been  lost. 

In  every  truly  reformed  man,  the  temperance 
cause  gains  a  new  and  valuable  recruit  The  great 
army  that  is  to  do  successful  battle  with  the  destroy- 
ing enemy  that  is  abroad  in  the  land,  will  come 
chiefly  from  the  ranks  of  those  who  have  felt  the 
crush  of  his  iron  heel.  So  we  gain  strength  with 
every  prisoner  that  is  rescued  from  the  enemy ;  for 
every  such  rescued  man  will  hate  this  enemy  ^Yitll 
an  undying  hatred,  and  so  long  as  he  maintains  his 
integrity,  stand  fronting  him  in  the  field. 

Dr.  Harris,  the  attending  physician  of  the 
"Franklin  Reformatory  Home,"  whose  long  ( 
rience  and  careful  observation  enable  him  to  speak 
intelligently  as  to  the  causes  which  Jead  to  relapses 
among  reformed  men,  has  kindly  furnished  us  with 
the  following  suggestions  as  to  the  dangers  that  be- 
set their  way.  The  doctor  has  done  a  good  service 


558  STRONG  DRINK; 

in  this.  To  be  forewarned  is  to  be  forearmed.  \Te 
are  also  indebted  to  him  for  the  chapter  on  "  To- 
bacco as  an  Incitant  to  the  Use  of  Alcoholic  Stimu- 
lant," which  immediately  follows  this  one,  and 
which  was  especially  prepared  by  him  for  the  pre- 
sent volume. 

DANGERS  THAT  BESET  THE  REFORMED  INEBRIATE. 

BY   DR.   B.    P.   HARRIS. 

"Come,  take  a  drink" — How  pernicious  is  this 
treating  generosity  of  the  inebriate,  and  how  im- 
portant to  the  reformed  to  be  firm  in  declining  his 
invitation.  To  hesitate,  is,  in  most  cases,  to  yield. 

Old  companions. — These  should  be  avoided,  and 
made  to  understand  that  their  company  is  not  con- 
genial ;  and  new  and  safe  ones  should  be  selected. 

Attacks  of  sickness. — A  quondam  inebriate  should 
never  employ  a  physician  who  drinks,  and  should 
always  tell  his  medical  attendant  that  he  cannot 
take  any  medicine  containing  alcohol.  It  is  very 
unsafe  to  resort  to  essence  of  ginger,  paregoric, 
spirits  of  lavender  or  burnt  brandy,  and  friends 
very  injudiciously,  sometimes,  recommend  remedies 
that  are  dangerous  in  the  extreme.  We  saw  one 
man  driven  into  insanity  by  his  employer  recom- 
mending him  a  preparation  of  rhubarb,  in  Jamaica 
spirits,  which  he  took  with  many  misgivings,  be- 
cause, six  years  before  he  had  been  a  drunkard. 
The  old  appetite  was  revived  in  full  force  at  once. 
Diarrhoea  can  be  much  better  treated  without  tine- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  559 

a  and  essences  than  with  them,  as  proved  by 
the  large  experience  of  the  Franklin  Home,  where 
they  are  never  prescribed. 

Bad  company  of  either  sex. — Remember  what  is 
said  of  the  strange  woman  in  Proverbs  v.,  3-12; 
and  the  advice  given  in  the  first  Psalm.  Lust  has 
driven  to  drunkenness  and  death  many  a  promising 
case  of  reform. 

Entering  a  tavern. — It  is  never  safe  to  buy  a 
cigar,  take  a  glass  of  lemonade,  eat  a  plate  of 
oysters  or  even  drink  water  at  a  bar  where  liquors 
are  sold.  The  temptation,  and  revival  of  old  associa- 
tions, are  too  much  for  weak  human  nature  to  with- 

:   1. 

Politics,  military  organizations,  etc. — Many  a 
nun  has  In't'ii  made  a  drunkard  by  the  war,  or  by 
becoming  an  active  politician.  Associations  of  men 
leading  to  excitement  of  any  kind  stimulate  them  to 
invite  each  other  to  drink  as  a  social  custom.  For- 
III«T  inebriates  should  avoid  all  forms  of  excitement. 
Said  a  former  politician,  who  has  not  drank  for  five 
- :  "  If  I  was  to  go  back  to  politics,  and  allow 
matters  to  take  their  natural  course,  I  should  soon 
drift  again  into  drunkenness." 

"Idleness"  says  the  French  proverb,  "is  the 
mother  of  all  vices;"  hence  the  advantage  and  im- 
}M>rtance  of  being  actively  employed. 

\Vnrkinii  in  cfintninniti>A. — There  are  no  men 
more  inclined  to  drunkenness  than  shoemakers, 
hatters  and  those  in  machine  shops.  Shoemakers 


560  STRONG  DRINK; 

are  especially  difficult  to  reform,  as  they  incite  each 
other  to  drink,  and  club  together  and  send  out  for 
beer  or  whisky. 

Use  of  excessive  quantities  of  pepper,  mustard 
and  horse-radish. — No  person  can  use  biting  condi- 
ments to  the  same  degree  as  drunkards;  and  re- 
formed men  must  largely  moderate  their  allowance, 
if  they  expect  to  keep  their  appetite  under  for  some- 
thing stronger.  Tavern-keepers  understand  that 
salt  and  peppery  articles,  furnished  gratis  for  lunch, 
will  pay  back  principal  and  profit  in  the  amount 
they  induce  men  to  drink. 

Loss  of  money  or  death  in  the  family. — These 
are  among  the  most  severe  of  all  the  trials  to  be  en- 
countered by  the  reformed  drunkard.  Hazardous 
ventures  in  stocks  or  business  are  dangerous  in  the 
extreme.  Without  the  grace  of  God  in  the  heart, 
and  the  strength  that  it  gives  in  times  of  depression 
of  spirits  under  severe  trial,  there  are  few  reformed 
men  who  can  bear,  with  any  safety,  the  loss  of  a 
wife  or  very  dear  child.  Thousands  who  have,  for 
the  time,  abandoned  the  habit  have  returned  to  it 
to  drown,  in  unconsciousness,  their  feeling  of  loss ; 
hence  the  great  and  vital  importance  of  an  entire 
change  of  heart  to  enable  a  man  to  go  to  his  faith 
for  consolation,  and  to  look  to  God  for  help  in  tunes 
of  trial  and  temptation. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TOBACCO  AS  AX  IXCITANT  TO  THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC 

STIMULANTS,  AND  AN  OBSTACLE  IN  THE  WAY 

OF  A  PERMANENT  REFORMATION. 

BV  DR.  R.  P.  HARRIS,  PHYSICIAN  OP  THE  "  PRANKUN  REFORMATORY 

HOME." 

WHEN  we  consider  the  almost  universal  use  of 
tobacco,  especially  in  the  form  of  smoking, 
among  our  male  population,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  this  powerful  poison  has  come  to  be  regarded 
as  an  innocent  and  almost  necessary  vegetable  pro- 
duction, not  to  be  used  as  food  exactly,  but  greatly 
allied  to  it  as  an  article  of  daily  consumption.  Few 
stop  to  reason  about  its  properties  or  effects ;  they 
remember,  perhaps,  how  sick  they  were  made  by 
the  first  chew  or  smoke,  but  this  having  long  passed, 
hi'lk-ve  that  as  their  systems  have  become  accus- 
tomed, apparently,  to  the  poison,  it  cannot  be  doing 
them  any  real  injury.  "When  we  reflect  that  tobacco 
contains  from  one  to  nearly  seven  per  cent,  of  ntco- 
tine — one  of  the  most  powerful  vegetable  poisons 
known — a  few  drops  of  which  are  sufficient  to  de- 
stroy life,  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  this 
faith  in  the  Innocence  begotten  of  use  must  be  fal- 
lacious. We  have  met  with  instances  where  the 
36  661 


562  STEONG  DRINK; 

poisonous  effects  of  tobacco  were  manifest  after  every 
smoke,  even  where  the  attempt  to  accustom  the  sys- 
tem to  its  use  had  been  persevered  in  for  many 
years ;  and  yet  the  men  never  realized  what  was  the 
matter  with  them,  until  they  had,  under  medical 
advice,  ceased  to  use  the  drug. 

Before  the  discovery  of  anesthetics,  tobacco  was 
used  as  a  remedy  to  produce  relaxation  in  cases  of 
strangulated  hernia ;  and  although  very  cautiously 
administered  in  the  form  of  tea,  or  smoke  per  rec- 
tum, proved  fatal  in  many  instances.  As  little  as 
twelve  grains  in  six  ounces  of  water  having  thus 
acted ;  and  from  half  a  drachm  to  two  drachms  in 
a  number  of  instances.  When  men  chew  as  high 
as  a  pound  and  a  quarter  of  strong  navy  tobacco  a 
week,  or  three  packages  of  fine-cut  in  a  day,  it  must 
certainly  tell  upon  them  sooner  or  later ;  or  even  in 
much  less  quantity. 

If  men  used  tobacco  in  moderation,  there  would  be 
much  less  objection  to  it,  if  it  was  not  so  intimately 

ASSOCIATED  WITH  THE  HABIT  OF  DRINKING. 

This  is  recognized  by  the  trade,  in  the  fact  that  we 
see  many  tobacco  stores  as  the  entrance  to  drinking 
saloons.  Ninety- three  per  cent,  of  the  men  who 
have  been  admitted  to  the  Franklin  Reformatory 
Home  used  tobacco,  and  eighty  per  cent,  of  them 
chewed  it.  There  may  be  possibly  as  high  as  ninety- 
three  per  cent,  of  male  adults  who  smoke,  but  eighty 
per  cent,  of  chewers  is  undoubtedly  a  large  propor- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  563 

tion  as  compared  with  those  in  the  same  ranks  of 
society  who  do  not  drink. 

Although  the  poisonous  symptoms  of  tobacco  are, 
in  a  great  degree,  the  same  in  different  persons  at 
the  inception  of  the  habit,  the  effects  vary  materially 
in  after  years  according  to  the  quantity  and  variety 
used,  the  form  employed  and  the  habits  and  tem- 
perament of  the  user.  One  man  will  chew  a  paper 
a  week,  another  four,  many  use  one  a  day,  and  a 
few  from  one  and  a  half  to  three  a  day,  besides 
smoking.  Occasionally,  but  very  rarely,  we  find  a 
man  who  limits  himself  to  one  cigar  a  day,  a  number 
allow  themselves  but  three,  but  of  later  years  even 
these  are  moderate  compared  with  those  who  use 
eight,  ten  or  more. 

There  are  many  men  who,  for  years,  preserve  a 
robust,  hale  appearance  under  both  tobacco  and 
whisky,  who  are,  notwithstanding  their  apparent 
health,  steadily  laying  the  foundation  of  diseased 
heart,  or 

DERANGEMENT  OF  THE  DIGESTIVE  ORGANS 

or  nervous  system  from  the  former,  or  an  organic 
fatal  disease  of  the  liver  or  kidneys  from  the  latter. 
Healthy-looking  men  are  often  rejected  by  ex- 
aminers of  life  insurance  companies  because  of  ir- 
n'unilar  and  intermittent  action  of  the  heart  from 
tobacco ;  and  equally  robust  subjects  are  forced  to 
abandon  the  habit  because  of  tremors,  vertigo  or  a 
pmiliur  form  of  dyspepsia.  AVe  have  known  men 


504  STKOXG  DRINK; 

who  died  from  the  use  of  tobacco,  and  others  who 
met  a  like  fate  from  whisky,  who  were  never  fully 
in  the  state  denominated  drunk.  Men  may  earn  a 
hobnail  liver  and  dropsy  by  the  constant,  steady 
use  of  alcoholic  drink  taken  systematically,  so  as 
always  to  keep  within  the  limits  of  intoxication ;  or 
they  may,  in  the  same  way,  get  a  diabetes  or  Bright's 
disease. 

Abundant  testimony  in  regard  to  the  effects  of 
tobacco  in  creating  an  appetite  for  strong  drink  has 
been  given  by  the  inmates  of  the  Franklin  Home. 
In  a  few  exceptional  cases  the  use  of  tobacco  does 
not  appear  to  create  any  sense  of  thirst ;  and  this 
is  specially  the  case  with  the  smokers  who  do  not 
spit  when  smoking.  Some  men  seem  to  be  free 
from  any  alcoholic  craving  when  using  tobacco,  and 
say  that  when  they  commence  to  drink  they  give 
up  the  drug  for  the  time  being.  These  are  excep- 
tional cases,  for  excess  in  drinking  generally  leads 
to  an  excess  in  the  use  of  tobacco,  often  to  double 
the  amount  ordinarily  employed.  We  have  often 
been  told  by  moderate  drinkers,  that  they  frequently 

FELT  A  DESIRE  FOB  A  LITTLE  WHISKY  AFTER  A  SMOKE, 

and  they  have  confessed  that  they  were  only  saved 
from  a  habit  of  drinking  to  excess  by  the  fact  that 
they  had  no  innate  fondness  for  alcoholic  stimulation. 
Unfortunately,  there  is  a  large  and  increasing  class 
of  men  who,  finding  that  water  does  not,  but  that 
alcohol  does,  relieve  the  dryness  of  throat  and  dis- 


THE  CUSSE  ASD  THE  CUIiK 

eased  thirst  resulting  from  tobacco,  are  led,  little  by 
little,  into  the  habit  of  using  whisky  to  excess. 
hnu-h  nun,  after,  it  may  be,  a  long  abstinence,  are 
not  unfrequently  led  back  into  their  old  habits  by 
an  attack  of  nervousness,  resulting  from  a  tempo- 
rary excessive  use  of  tobacco,  and  a  feeling  that  all 
that  is  wanting  to  relieve  this  is  a  glass  of  whisky, 
which  being  taken,  at  once  determines  a  debauch  of 
long  or  short  duration,  according  to  the  habits  and 
character  of  the  party.  Many  a  so-called  periodi- 
cal drinker  fixes  the  return  of  his  period  by  an  act 
of  this  kind,  and  with  such  cases  it  is  all-important 
to  their  permanent  reformation,  that  they  should 
cease  entirely  and  forever  from  the  use  of  tobacco. 
We  have,  in  a  few  instances,  prevailed  upon  men  to 
do  this,  but  in  a  large  majority  of  cases,  where  they 
have  admitted  the  connection  between  the  two  habits, 
in  their  own  person,  or  volunteered  to  tell  how 
much  tobacco  had  acted  in  forming  and  keeping  up 
their  appetite  for  whisky,  they  have  failed  in  being 
able  to  sum  up  sufficient  resolution  to  abandon  the 
use  of  the  drug,  saying  that  they  felt  the  import- 
ance of  the  step,  and  would  be  glad  to  be  able  to 
give  it  up,  but  that  the  habit  was 

Ti;.\   TIMES  AS  DIFFICULT  TO  CONQUER   AS  THAT  OF 

UIIISKY-DKINKING. 

All  that  we  have  been  able  to  accomplish  in  such 
cases  has  been  to  check  the  excessive  use.  AVc  have 
repeatedly  assured  mm,  after  a  careful  examination 


566  STKOXQ  DRINK; 

of  their  peculiar  cases,  that  they  would  certainly 
drink  again  unless  they  gave  up  their  tobacco,  and 
have  seen  this  opinion  verified,  because  they  took, 
no  heed  to  the  warning.  We  have  also  been  grati- 
fied in  a  few  instances  by  hearing  a  man  say  that 
he  felt  confident  that  he  could  never  have  accom- 
plished his  reformation  as  he  had  done,  if  he  had 
not  taken  the  advice  given  him  about  abandoning 
his  tobacco.  In  contrast  with  the  men  of  weak  pur- 
pose, we  have  to  admire  one  who  had  resolution 
enough  to  break  off  the  three  habits  of  opium- 
eating,  whisky-drinking  and  tobacco-chewing — no 
trifling  matter — when  the  first  was  of  ten  and  the 
last  of  more  than  thirty  years'  duration. 

We  have  been  repeatedly  asked  which  was  the 
most  injurious,  smoking  or  chewing,  and  have  re- 
plied, that  everything  depended  upon  the  amount 
of  nicotine  absorbed  in  the  process,  and  the  loss  to 
the  system  in  the  saliva  spit  out.  Men  have  died 
from  the  direct  effect  of  excessive  smoking,  and  quite 
recently  a  death  in  a  child  was  reported  from  the 
result  of  blowing  soap-bubbles  with  an  old  wooden 
pipe.  We  have  known  a  little  boy  to  vomit  from 
drawing  air  a  few  times  through  the  empty  meer- 
schaum pipe  of  his  German  teacher.  The  smoking 
of  two  pipes  as  the  first  essay,  very  nearly  caused 
the  death  of  a  young  man,  whose  case  was  reported 
by  Dr.  Marshall  Hall. 

The  least  poisonous  tobaccos  are  those  of  Syria 
and  Turkey,  but  the  cigarettes  made  of  them  in  the 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CUHF. 

.and  imported  into  this  country  are  said  to  be 
impregnated  with  opium.  Virginia  tobacco,  for  the 
pipe  or  chewing,  contains  a  large  percentage  of 
nicotine,  and  the  former  is  often  impregnated  with 
foreign  matters,  recognizable  by  the  choking  effect 
of  the  smoke  when  inhaled,  or  by  the  removal  of 
the  epithelium  (outer  skin)  of  the  tongue  at  the 
point  under  the  end  of  the  pipe-stem. 

If  we  fail  in  our  efforts  to  reform  the  tobacco 
habit,  the  next  best  thing  to  do,  is  to  show  men 
what  the  nature  and  capabilities  of  the  poison  are, 
and  endeavor  to  persuade  them  to  use  the  milder 
varieties  and  in  a  moderate  quantity. 

ONE   OF   THE  GREAT  CURSES  OF  THE  RISING  GENE- 
RATION 

is  the  passion  for  imitating  and  acquiring  the  evil 
habits  of  men,  under  an  impression  that  it  hastens 
their  approach  to  manhood.  Weak,  frail,  delicate 
boys,  with  inherited  tendencies  to  disease,  who 
should,  by  all  means,  never  use  tobacco,  or  anything 
injurious,  are  often  as  obstinately  bent  upon  learning 
to  smoke,  in  spite  of  medical  advice,  as  those  in 
whom  a  moderate  use  would  be  far  less  objection- 
able. A  recent  observer,  in  examining  into  the 
cases  of  thirty -eight  boys  who  had  formed  the  hnhit 
of  using  tobacco,  found  that  twenty-seven  of  them 
had  also  a  fondness  for  alcoholic  stimulants.  A 
large  proportion  of  the  Franklin  Home  inmates 
attribute  their  habit  of  drinking  to  the  effects  of 


568  STRONG  DRINK; 

company ;  many  commenced  in  the  army,  and  many 
were  induced  to  drink  at  first  by  invitation.  If 
smoking  was  a  solitary  habit,  it  would  be  less  likely 
to  lead  to  drinking ;  but  the  same  companionship, 
and  habits  of  treating  prevail,  as  in  the  saloon,  and 
the  step  from  the  estaminet  to  the  bar-room  under 
invitation,  is  an  easy  one,  where  the  diseased  thirst, 
so  often  induced  by  tobacco,  favors  the  movement 
to  treat. 

We  have  no  prejudice  against  tobacco,  other  than 
what  would  naturally  arise  in  the  mind  from  a 
careful  examination  of  the  effects  of  the  poison 
in  hundreds  of  cases.  We  have  seen  large,  hale- 
looking  men  forced  in  time  to  abandon,  although 
very  reluctantly,  the  use  of  tobacco  in  every  form ; 
and  the  most  bitter  enemy  we  have  ever  met  to  the 
vile  weed,  as  he  termed  it,  was  a  physician,  who  had 
been  forced  to  give  up  chewing  on  account  of  the 
state  of  his  heart,  after  years  of  indulgence.  We 
have  seen  many  such  instances,  and,  in  one  case,  the 
abandonment  of  the  habit  entirely  cured  a  dyspepsia 
of  twenty -eight  years'  standing. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  WOMAJFS  CRUSADE. 

FOR  every  one  saved  through  the  agency  of  ine- 
briate asylums  and  reformatory  homes,  hun- 
dreds are  lost  and  hundreds  added  yearly  to  the 
great  army  of  drunkards.  Good  and  useful  as  such 
institutions  are,  they  do  not  meet  the  desperate  exi- 
gencies of  the  case.  Something  of  wider  reach  and 
quirker  application  is  demanded.  AVhat  shall  it  be  ? 
In  prohibition  many  look  for  the  means  by  which 
the  curse  of  drunkenness  is  to  be  abated.  But, 
while  we  wait  for  a  public  sentiment  strong  enough 
to  determine  legislation,  sixty  thousand  unhappy 
beings  are  yearly  consigned  to  drunkards'  graves. 

What  have  temperance  men  accomplished  in  the 
fifty  years  during  which  they  have  so  earnestly  op- 
posed the  drinking  usages  of  society  and  the  trailie 
in  alcoholic  drinks  ?  And  what  have  they  done  for 
the  prevention  and  cure  of  drunkenness?  In  lim- 
iting the  use  of  intoxicants,  in  restricting  the  liquor 
traffic  and  in  giving  a  right  direction  to  public 
sentiment,  they  have  done  a  great  and  good  work; 
but  their  efforts  to  reclaim  the  fallen  drunkard  have 
met  with  sad  discouragements.  In  the  work  of 
prevention,  much  has  been  accomplished ;  in  the 
5G9 


570  STRONG  DRINK; 

•work  of  cure,  alas !  how  little.  The  appetite  once 
formed,  and  the  unhappy  victim  finds  himself  under 
the  control  of  a  power  from  which  he  can  rarely 
get  free.  Pledges,  new  associations,  better  and  more 
favorable  surroundings,  all  are  tried,  and  many  are 
saved;  but  the  number  of  the  saved  are  few  in 
comparison  with  those  who,  after  a  season  of  so- 
briety, fall  back  into  their  old  ways. 

In  all  these  many  years  of  untiring  efforts  to  lift 
up  and  save  the  fallen,  what  sad  disappointments 
have  met  our  earnest  and  devoted  temperance 
workers.  From  how  many  fields,  which  seemed 
full  of  a  rich  promise,  have  they  gathered  only  a 
meagre  harvest.  But  still  they  have  worked  on, 
gaining  strength  from  defeat  and  disappointment ; 
for  they  knew  that  the  cause  in  which  they  were 
engaged  was  the  cause  of  God  and  humanity,  and 
that  in  the  end  it  must  prevail. 

Meantime,  the  bitter,  half-despairing  cry,  "O  Lord, 
how  long !"  was  going  up  from  the  lips  of  broken- 
hearted wives  and  mothers  all  over  the  land,  and  year 
by  year  this  cry  grew  deeper  and  more  desperate. 
All  hope  in  man  was  failing  from  their  hearts. 
They  saw  restrictive  legislation  here  and  there,  and 
even  prohibition ;  but,  except  in  a  few  cases,  no  re- 
moval of  the  curse;  for  behind  law,  usage,  preju- 
dice, interest  and  appetite  the  traffic  stood  intrenched 
and  held  its  seat  of  power. 

At  last,  in  the  waning  years  of  the  first  century 
of  our  nation's  existence,  their  failing  hope  in  man 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  57 1 

utterly,  and  with  another  and  deeper  and  more 
despairing  cry,  the  women  of  our  land  sent  up  their 
voices  to  God.  Not  now  saying  "  O  Lord,  how  long !" 
but  "Lord,  come  to  our  help  against  the  mighty!" 

What  followed  is  history.  The  first  result  of  this 
utter  abandonment  of  all  hope  in  moral  suasion  or 
legal  force,  and  of  a  turning  to  God  in  prayer  and 
faith,  was  that  strange,  intense,  impulsive  movement 
known  as  the  "  Woman's  Crusade." 

BEGINNING  OF  THE  CRUSADE. 

Let  us  briefly  give  the  story  of  its  initiation  late 
in  the  month  of  December,  1873.  Dr.  Dio  Lewis, 
in  a  lecture  which  he  had  been  engaged  to  deliver 
at  Hillsboro,  Ohio,  related  how,  forty  years  before, 
his  pious  mother,  the  wife  of  a  drunkard,  who  was 
struggling  to  feed,  clothe  and  educate  her  five  help- 
less children,  went,  with  other  women  who  had  a 
similar  sorrow  with  her  own,  to  the  tavern-keeper 
who  sold  their  husbands  drink,  and,  kneeling  down 
in  his  bar-room,  prayed  with  and  for  him,  and  be- 
sought him  to  abandon  a  business  that  was  cursing 
his  neighbors  and  bringing  want  and  suffering  into 
tlu-ir  homes.  Their  prayers  and  entreatirs  juwaik'd. 
After  telling  this  story  of  his  mother,  the  lecturer 
asked  all  the  women  present  who  were  willing  to 
follow  her  example  to  rise,  and  in  response,  nearly 
the  entire  audience  arose.  A  meeting  was  thru 
calU-il  for  the  next  morning,  to  be  held  in  the  Pres- 
byterian church. 


572  STRONG  DRINK; 

Dr.  Lewis  was  a  guest  at  the  old  mansion  of  Ex- 
Governor  Trimble,  father  of  Mrs.  E.  J.  Thompson, 
a  most  cultivated,  devoted  Christian  woman,  mother 
of  eight  children.  She  was  not  present  at  the  lec- 
ture, but  "  prepared,"  as  she  writes,  "  as  those  who 
watch  for  the  morning,  for  the  first  gray  light  upon 
this  dark  night  of  sorrow.  Few  comments  were 
made  in  our  house,"  she  continues,  "  upon  this  new 
line  of  policy  until  after  breakfast  the  next  morning, 
when,  just  as  we  gathered  about  the  hearth-stone,  my 
daughter  Mary  said,  very  gently :  '  Mother,  will  you 
go  the  meeting  this  morning  ?'  Hesitatingly  I  re- 
plied :  '  I  don't  know  yet  what  I  shall  do/  My 
husband,  fully  appreciating  the  responsibility  of  the 
moment,  said :  '  Children,  let  us  leave  your  mother 
alone ;  for  you  know  where  she  goes  with  all  vexed 
questions  ;'  and  pointing  to  the  old  family  Bible,  left 
the  room.  The  awful  responsibility  of  the  step  that 
I  must  needs  next  take  was  wonderfully  relieved  by 
thought  of  the  '  cloudy  pillar '  and  '  parted  waters  ' 
of  the  past;  hence,  with  confidence,  I  was  about 
turning  my  eye  of  faith  'up  to  the  hills/  from 
whence  had  come  my  help,  when-,  in  response  to  a 
gentle  tap  at  my  door,  I  met  my  dear  Mary,  who, 
with  her  Bible  in  hand  and  tearful  eyes,  suid : 
'  Mother,  I  opened  to  Psalm  cxlvi.,  and  I  believe  it 
is  for  you.'  She  withdrew  and  I  sat  down  to  read 
the  wonderful  message  from  God.  As  I  read  what 
I  had  so  often  read  before,  the  Spirit  so  strangely 
'  took  of  the  things  of  God,'  and  showed  me  new 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  573 

meanings,  I  no  longer  hesitated,  but,  in  the  strength 
thus  imparted,  started  to  the  scene  of  action. 

"  Upon  entering  the  church,  I  was  startled  to  find 
myself  chosen  as  leader.  The  old  Bible  was  taken 
down  from  the  desk,  and  Psalm  cxlvi.  read.  Mrs. 
General  McDowell,  by  request,  led  in  prayer,  and, 
although  she  had  never  before  heard  her  own  voice 
in  a  public  prayer,  on  this  occasion  '  the  tongue  of 
fire*  sat  upon  her,  and  all  were  deeply  affected. 
Mrs.  Cowden,  our  Methodist  minister's  wife,  was 
then  requested  to  sing  to  a  familiar  air — 

" '  Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears  I 
Hope,  and  be  undismayed ; 
God  hears  thy  sighs  and  counts  thy  tears : 
lie  will  lift  up  thy  head.' 

And  while  thus  engaged,  the  women  (seventy-five 
in  number)  fell  in  line,  two  and  two,  and  proceeded 
first  to  the  drug  stores  and  then  to  the  hotels  and 
saloons." 

Thus  began  this  memorable  Crusade,  which  was 
maintained  in  llillsboro  for  over  six  months,  during 
which  time  the  saloons  were  visited  almost  daily. 

Within  two  days,  the  women  of  Washington 
Court-House,  a  neighboring  town,  felt  the  inspira- 
tion of  their  sisters,  and  inaugurated  the  movement 
there.  A  description  of  what  was  done  at  this  place 
will  afford  the  reader  a  clear  impression  of  tin- 
way  in  which  the  "Crusaders"  worked,  and  the  re- 
sults that  followed  their  efforts.  We  quote  from 
the  account  given  by  Mrs.  M.  V.  I  -tick  : 


574  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  After  an  hour  of  prayer,  forty-four  women  filed 
slowly  and  solemnly  down  the  aisle  and  started 
forth  upon  their  strange  mission,  with  fear  and 
trembling,  while  the  male  portion  of  the  audience 
remained  at  church  to  pray  from  the  success  of  this 
new  undertaking;  the  tolling  of  the  church-bell 
keeping  time  to  the  solemn  march  of  the  women, 
as  they  wended  their  way  to  the  first  drug  store  on 
the  list  (the  number  of  places  within  the  city  limits 
where  intoxicating  drinks  were  sold  was  fourteen — 
eleven  saloons  and  three  drug  stores).  Here,  as  in 
every  place,  they  entered  singing,  every  woman 
taking  up  the  sacred  strain  as  she  crossed  the  thresh- 
old. This  was  followed  by  the  reading  of  the  appeal 
and  prayer,  and  then  earnest  pleading  to  desist  from 
their  soul-destroying  traffic  and  to  sign  the  dealers' 
pledge.  Thus,  all  the  day  long,  going  from  place 
to  place,  without  stopping  even  for  dinner  or  lunch, 
till  five  o'clock,  meeting  with  no  marked  success ; 
but  invariably  courtesy  was  extended  to  them. 

"  The  next  day  an  increased  number  of  women 
went  forth,  leaving  the  men  in  the  church  to  pray 
all  day  long.  On  this  day  the  contest  really  began, 
and  at  the  first  place  the  doors  were  found  locked. 
With  hearts  full  of  compassion,  the  women  knelt 
in  the  snow  upon  the  pavement  to  plead  for  the 
Divine  influence  upon  the  heart  of  the  liquor-dealer, 
and  there  held  their  first  street  prayer-meeting. 
The  Sabbath  was  devoted  to  a  union  mass-meeting. 
Monday,  December  29th,  is  one  long  to  be  remem- 


TUB  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  575 

bered  in  Washington  as  the  day  on  which  occurred 
the  iirst  surrender  ever  made  by  a  liquor-dealer  of 
his  stock  of  liquors  of  every  kind  and  variety  to  the 
women,  in  answer  to  their  prayers  and  entreaties,  and 
by  them  poured  into  the  street.  Nearly  a  thousand 
men,  women  and  children  witnessed  the  mingling 
of  beer,  ale,  wine  and  whisky,  as  they  filled  the 
gutters  and  were  drunk  up  by  the  earth,  while  bells 
were  ringing,  men  and  boys  shouting,  and  women  sing- 
ing and  praying  to  God,  who  had  given  the  victory. 

"On  the  fourth  day,  the  campaign  reached  its 
height ;  the  town  being  filled  with  visitors  from  all 
parts  of  the  country  and  adjoining  villages.  An- 
other public  surrender  and  another  pouring  into  the 
street  of  a  larger  stock  of  liquors  than  on  the  day 
before,  and  more  intense  excitement  and  enthusiasm. 
In  eight  days  all  the  saloons,  eleven  in  number, 
had  been  closed,  and  the  three  drug  stores  pledged 
to  sell  only  on  prescription. 

"  Early  in  the  third  week  the  discouraging  intelli- 
gence came  that  a  new  man  had  taken  out  license 
to  Bell  liquor  in  one  of  the  deserted  saloons,  and 
that  he  was  backed  by  a  whisky  house  in  Cincin- 
nati to  the  amount  of  five  thousand  dollars  to  break 
down  this  movement.  On  Wednesday,  14th  of 
January,  the  whisky  was  unloaded  at  his  room. 
About  forty  women  were  on  the  ground  and  fol- 
lowed the  liquor  in,  and  remained  holding  an  unin- 
terrupted prayer-meeting  all  day  and  until  eleven 
o'clock  at  night.  The  next  day — bitterly  cold — was 


576  STRONG  DRINK; 

spent  in  the  same  place  and  manner,  without  fire  or 
chairs,  two  hours  of  that  time  the  women  being 
locked  in,  while  the  proprietor  was  off  attending  a 
trial.  On  the  following  day,  the  coldest  of  the  win- 
ter of  1874,  the  women  were  locked  out,  and  re- 
mained on  the  street  holding  religious  services  all 
day  long.  Next  morning  a  tabernacle  was  built  in 
the  street  just  in  front  of  the  house,  and  was  occu- 
pied for  the  double  purpose  of  watching  and  praying 
through  the  day ;  but  before  night  the  sheriff  closed 
the  saloon,  and  the  proprietor  surrendered.  A  short 
time  afterwards,  on  a  dying  bed,  this  four-day's 
liquor-dealer  sent  for  some  of  these  women,  telling 
them  their  songs  and  prayers  had  never  ceased  to 
ring  in  his  ears,  and  urging  them  to  pray  again  in 
his  behalf;  so  he  passed  away." 

From  this  beginning  the  new  temperance  move- 
ment increased  and  spread  with  a  marvelous  rapidity. 
The  incidents  attendant  on  the  progress  of  the 
"  Crusade  "  were  often  of  a  novel  and  exciting  char- 
acter. Such  an  interference  with  their  business 
was  not  to  be  tolerated  by  the  liquor  men  ;  and  they 
soon  began  to  organize  for  defense  and  retaliation. 
They  not  only  had  the  law  on  their  side,  but  in 
many  cases,  the  administrators  of  the  law.  Yet  it 
often  happened,  in  consequence  of  their  reckless 
violations  of  statutes  made  to  limit  and  regulate  the 
traffic,  that  dealers  found  themselves  without  standing 
in  the  courts,  or  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  the  very 
laws  they  had  invoked  for  protection. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  577 

In  the  smaller  towns  the  movement  was,  for  a 
time,  almost  irresistible ;  and  in  many  of  them  the 
drink  traffic  ceased  altogether.  But  when  it  struck 
the  larger  cities,  it  met  with  impediments,  against 
which  it  beat  violently  for  awhile,  but  without  the 
ft  nve  to  bear  them  down.  Our  space  will  not  per- 
mit us  to  more  than  glance  at  some  of  the  incidents 
attendant  on  this  singular  crusade.  The  excitement 
that  followed  its  inauguration  in  the  large  city  of 
( '!«  vi  land  was  intense.  It  is  thus  described  by  Mrs. 
Sarah  K.  Bolton  in  her  history  of  the  Woman's 
Crusade,  to  which  we  have  already  referred: 

HOW  THE  CRUSADERS  WERE  TREATED. 

"  The  question  was  constantly  asked :  '  Will  the 
women  of  a  conservative  city  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  go  upon  the  street  as  a  praying-band  ?' 
Tin-  Liquor-dealers  said:  'Send  committees  of  two 
or  three  and  we  will  talk  with  them ;  but  coming  in 
a  body  to  pray  with  us  brands  our  business  as  dis- 
reputable.' The  time  came  when  the  Master  seemed 
to  call  for  a  mightier  power  to  bear  upon  the  liquor 
traffic,  and  a  company  of  heroic  women,  many  of 
tin-in  the  wives  of  prominent  clergymen,  led  by 
W.  A.  Ingham,  said :  '  Here  am  I ;  the  Lord's 
will  l>e  done.' 

"On  the  third  day  of  the  street  work,  the  whi.-ky 

and  beer  interest  seemed  to  have  awakened  to  a  full 

consciousness  of   the  situation.     Drinkers,   di-alers 

and  roughs  gathered  in  large  numbers  on  the  street 

37 


578  STRONG  DRINK; 

to  wait  for  the  praying  women.  A  mob,  Leaded  by 
an  organization  of  brewers,  rushed  upon  them, 
kicking  them,  striking  them  with  their  fists  and 
hitting  them  with  brickbats.  The  women  were 
locked  in  a  store  away  from  the  infuriated  mob, 
who,  on  the  arrival  of  a  stronger  body  of  police, 
were  dispersed,  cursing  and  yelling  as  they  went. 
The  next  day,  taking  their  lives  in  their  hands,  a 
larger  company  of  women  went  out,  and  somewhat 
similar  scenes  were  enacted.  Meantime,  public 
meetings,  called  in  the  churches,  were  so  crowded 
that  standing  room  could  not  be  found.  The  clergy, 
as  one  man,  came  to  the  front.  Business  men  left 
their  stores  and  shops,  ministers  their  studies,  and  a 
thousand  manly  men  went  out  to  defend  the  praying 
women.  The  military  companies  were  ordered  to 
be  in  readiness,  resting  on  their  arms ;  the  police 
force  was  increased,  and  the  liquor  interest  soon 
made  to  feel  that  the  city  was  not  under  its  control. 
The  mob  never  again  tried  its  power.  For  three 
months,  with  scarcely  a  day's  exception,  the  praying- 
bands,  sometimes  with  twenty  in  each,  working  in 
various  parts  of  the  city ;  sometimes  with  five  hun- 
dred, quietly  and  silently,  two  by  two,  forming  a 
procession  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length,  fol- 
lowed by  scores  in  carriages,  who  could  not  bear  the 
long  walks,  went  from  saloon  to  saloon,  holding 
services  where  the  proprietors  were  willing,  and  in 
warehouses  which  were  thrown  open  to  them,  or  in 
vacant  lots  near  by,  when  they  were  unwilling. 


THE  CURSE  AXD  TUE  CURE.  579 

Men  took  off  their  hats,  and  often  wept 
as  the  long  procession  went  by.  Little  children 
gathered  close  to  the  singers,  and  catching  the  words, 
sang  them  months  afterwards  in  their  dingy  hovels. 
_ranl  women  bent  their  heads  as  they  mur- 
mured with  unutterable  sadness,  'You've  come  too 
late  to  save  my  boy  or  my  husband.'  Many  saloon- 
keepers gave  up  their  business  and  never  resumed 
it.  Many  who  had  lost  all  hope  because  of  the  ap- 
petite which  bound  them,  heard  from  woman's  lips 
the  glad  tidings  of  freedom  in  Christ,  and  accepted 
the  liberty  of  the  Gospel." 

In  many  other  places  the  crusaders  met  with  vio- 
lence from  exasperated  liquor-dealers  and  their 
brutish  associates.  A  pail  of  cold  water  was  thrown 
into  the  face  of  a  woman  in  Clyde,  Ohio,  as  she 
knelt  praying  in  front  of  a  saloon.  Dirty  water 
was  thrown  by  pailfuls  over  the  women  at  Norwalk. 
At  Columbus,  a  saloon-keeper  assaulted  one  of  the 
praying-band,  injuring  her  seriously.  In  Cincin- 
nati, forty-three  women  were  arrested  by  the  authori- 
ties for  praying  in  the  street  and  lodged  in  jail.  In 
In  llefontaine,  a  large  liquor-dealer  declared  that  if 
the  praying-band  visited  him  he  would  use  powder 
and  Irad  ;  but  the  women,  undeterred  by  his  threat, 
sang  and  prayed  in  front  of  his  saloon  every  day 
for  a  week,  in  spite  of  the  insults  and  noisy  inter- 
ferences of  himself  and  customers.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  the  man  made  his  appearance  at  a  mass- 
meeting  and  signed  the  pledge;  and  on  the  follow- 


530  STRONG  DRINK; 

ing  Sunday  attended  church  for  the  first  time  in 
five  years. 

DECLINE  OF  THE  CRUSADING  SPIRIT. 

From  Ohio  the  excitement  soon  spread  to  other 
Western  States,  and  then  passed  east  and  south, 
until  it  was  felt  in  nearly  every  State  in  the  Union ; 
but  it  did  not  gain  force  by  extension.  To  the 
sober,  second-thought  of  those  who  had,  in  singleness 
of  heart,  self-consecration  and  trust  in  God,  thrown 
themselves  into  this  work  because  they  believed  that 
they  were  drawn  of  the  Spirit,  came  the  perception 
of  other,  better  and  more  orderly  ways  of  accom- 
plishing the  good  they  sought.  If  God  were,  in- 
deed, with  them — if  it  was  His  Divine  work  of 
saving  human  souls  upon  which  they  had  entered, 
He  would  lead  them  into  the  right  ways,  if  they 
were  but  willing  to  walk  therein.  Of  this  there 
came  to  them  a  deep  assurance ;  and  in  the  great 
calm  that  fell  after  the  rush  and  excitement  and 
wild  confusion  of  that  first  movement  against  the 
enemy,  they  heard  the  voice  of  God  calling  to  them 
still.  And,  as  they  hearkened,  waiting  to  be  led, 
and  willing  to  obey,  light  came,  and  they  saw  more 
clearly.  Not  by  swift,  impetuous  impulse,  but 
through  organization  and  slow  progression  was  the 
victory  to  be  won. 

In  the  language  of  Frances  E.  Willard,  in  her 
history  of  "  The  Woman's  National  Christian  Tem- 
perance Union,"  to  be  found  in  the  Centennial 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE. 

temperance  volume :  "  The  women  who  went  forth 
by  an  impulse  sudden,  irresistible,  divine,  to  pray 
in  the  saloons,  became  convinced,  as  weeks  and 
months  passed  by,  that  theirs  was  to  be  no  easily- 
won  victory.  The  enemy  was  rich  beyond  their 
power  to  comprehend.  He  had  upon  his  side  the 
majesty  of  the  law,  the  trickery  of  politics  and  the 
leagued  strength  of  that  almost  invincible  pair — 
appetite,  avarice.  He  was  persistent,  too,  as  fate ; 
determined  to  fight  it  out  on  that  line  to  the  last 
dollar  of  his  enormous  treasure-house  and  the  last 
ounce  of  his  power.  But  these  women  of  the  Cru- 
sade believed  in  God,  and  in  themselves  as  among 
1 1  is  appointed  instruments  to  destroy  the  rum-power 
in  America.  They  loved  Christ's  cause ;  they  loved 
the  native  land  that  had  been  so  mindful  of  them ; 
they  loved  their  sweet  and  sacred  homes ;  and  so  it 
came  about  that,  though  they  had  gone  forth  only 
as  skirmishers,  they  soon  fell  into  line  of  battle; 
though  they  had  ignorantly  hoped  to  take  the  enemy 
by  a  sudden  assault,  they  buckled  on  the  armor  for 
the  long  campaign.  The  woman's  praying-bands, 
earnest,  impetuous,  inspired,  became  the  woman's 
temperance  unions,  firm,  patient,  persevering.  The 
praying-bands  were  without  leadership,  :-uve  that 
which  inevitably  results  from  '  the  survival  of  the 
lit t»>t;'  the  woman's  unions  are  regularly  oflicered 
in  the  usual  way.  They  first  wrought  their  grand 
pioneer  work  in  sublime  indifference  to  prescribed 
forms  of  procedure — 'so  say  we  all  of  us'  being  the. 


582  STEONO  DRINK i 

spirit  of '  motions'  often  made,  seconded  and  carried 
by  the  chair,.while  the  assembled  women  nodded 
their  earnest  acquiescence ;  the  second  are  possessed 
of  good,  strong  constitutions  (with  by-laws  an- 
nexed), and  follow  the  order  of  business  with  a 
dutiful  regard  to  parliamentary  usage.  In  the  first, 
women  who  had  never  lifted  up  their  voices  in  their 
own  church  prayer-meetings  stood  before  thousands 
and  *  spoke  as  they  were  moved ;'  in  the  second, 
these  same  women  with  added  experience,  and  a 
host  of  others  who  have  since  enlisted,  impress  the 
public  thought  and  conscience  by  utterances  care- 
fully considered.  The  praying-bands,  hoping  for 
immediate  victory,  pressed  their  members  into  in- 
cessant service ;  the  woman's  unions,  aware  that  the 
battle  is  to  be  a  long  one,  ask  only  for  such  help  as 
can  be  given  consistently  with  other  duties." 

As  the  result  of  this  intelligent  effort  at  effective 
organization  by  the  women  who  inaugurated  and 
were  prominent  in  the  "  Crusade,"  we  have  "  The 
Woman's  National  Christian  Temperance  Union," 
with  its  auxiliary  and  local  unions  in  nearly 
every  State ;  one  of  the  most  efficient  agencies  in 
the  practical  work  of  temperance  reform  which  the 
country  has  yet  seen. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    WOMAN'S    NATIONAL    CHRISTIAN    TEMPERANCE 

UNION. 

THvUEING  the  summer  of  1874,  when  the  re- 
L^  action  which  had  checked  the  "Crusade" 
was  recognized  as  something  permanent  by  the 
more  thoughtful  and  observant  of  the  women  who 
had  been  engaged  in  it,  they  paused  for  delibera- 
tion, and  took  counsel  together.  Great  victories  had 
been  won  in  the  brief  season  during  which  they 
were  masters  of  the  field ;  and  now  that  the  enemy 
had  rallied  his  forces,  and  intrenched  himself  be- 
hind law,  public  opinion,  politics  and  the  State, 
should  they  weakly  give  up  the  contest?  Not  so. 
Thry  had  discovered  wherein  the  weakness,  as  well 
as  the  stivngth,  of  their  enemy  lay,  and  had  come 
into  a  new  perception  of  their  own  powers  and 
resources. 

ORGANIZATION. 

The  first  step  taken  was  to  call  conventions  in 
the  various  States  where  the  Crusade  had  been 
active.  These  were  attended  by  delegates  chosen 
by  the  local  praying-bando.  The  result  was  the 
organization,  in  some  of  the  States,  of  what  were 


5S4  STRONG  DEIXK; 

known  as  "  Temperance  Leagues."  Afterwards  tlie 
word  "  Unions"  was  substituted  for  Leagues.  Hav- 
ing organized  by  States,  the  next  thing  was  to  have 
a  National  Union.  In  August  of  that  year,  the  first 
National  Sunday-School  Assembly  was  held  at 
Chautauqua  Lake,  near  Buffalo,  New  York.  Many 
of  the  most  earnest  workers  in  the  temperance  Cru- 
sade, from  different  parts  of  the  United  States,  and 
from  the  various  denominations  of  Christians,  were 
present,  and  the  conviction  was  general  that  steps 
should  at  once  be  taken  towards  forming  a  National 
League,  in  order  to  make  permanent  the  work  that 
had  already  been  done.  After  much  deliberation, 
a  committee  of  organization  was  appointed,  consist- 
ing of  a  woman  from  each  State.  This  committee 
issued  a  circular  letter,  asking  the  various  Woman's 
Temperance  Leagues  to  hold  meetings,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  electing  one  woman  from  each  Congressional 
district  as  a  delegate  to  a  National  Convention,  to 
be  held  in  November,  at  Cleveland,  Ohio.  A  single 
paragraph  from  this  circular  will  show  the  spirit 
that  animated  the  call. 

"  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remind  those  who  have 
worked  so  nobly  in  the  grand  temperance  uprising 
that  in  union  and  organization  are  its  success  and 
permanence,  and  the  consequent  redemption  of  this 
land  from  the  curse  of  intemperance.  In  the  name 
of  our  Master — in  behalf  of  the  thousands  of  women 
who  suffer  from  this  terrible  evil,  we  call  upon  all 
.to  unite  in  an  earnest,  continued  effort  to  hold  the 


Till-:  CURSE  AXD  THE  CI'J'J:.  535 

ground  ;il n-ad v  won,  and  move  onward  together  to 
a  complete  victory  over  the  foes  we  fight." 

Delegates  representing  sixteen  States  were  pre- 
sent at  the  convention,  which  held  its  first  session  in 

.land,  commencing  on  the  18th  of  November, 
1874,  and  lasting  for  three  days.  Prominent  among 
its  members  were  active  leaders  of  the  Crusade,  but, 
besides  these,  says  Miss  Willard,  "  there  were  pre- 
sent many  thoughtful  and  gifted  women,  whose 
hearts  had  been  stirred  by  the  great  movement, 
though  until  now  they  had  larked  the  opportunity 
to  identify  themselves  with  it.  Mrs.  Jennie  F. 
AVilling  presided  over  the  convention,  which  was 
one  of  the  most  earnest  and  enthusiastic  ever  held. 
A  constitution  was  adopted,  also  a  plan  of  organiza- 
tion intended  to  reach  every  hamlet,  town  and  city 
in  the  land.  There  was  a  declaration  of  principles, 
of  which  Christianity  alone  could  have  furnished 
the  animus.  An  appeal  to  the  women  of  our  coun- 
try was  provided  for;  another  to  the  girls  of 
America;  a  third  to  lands  beyond  the  sea;  a 
memorial  to  Congress  was  ordered,  and  a  deputation 

: TV  it  appointed;  a  National  temperance  paper, 
to  be  edited  and  published  by  women,  was  HL 
upon,  also  a  financial  plan,  asking  lor  a  cent  a  w<  ck 
from  memliers;  and  last,  not  least,  was  appoint 
special  committee  on  temperance  work  among  the 
children.       Four  large    mass-meetings    were   held 
during  the  convention,  all  of  them  addressed   by 
women.     Mrs.  Annie  Wittenmyer,  of  Philadelphia, 


586  STRONG  DRINK; 

was  elected  president;  Miss  Frances  E.  Willard,  of 
Chicago,  corresponding  secretary;  Mrs.  Mary  C. 
Johnson,  of  Brooklyn,  recording  secretary ;  Mrs. 
Mary  A.  Ingham,  of  Cleveland,  treasurer,  with  one 
vice-president  from  each  State  represented  in  the 
convention." 

The  spirit  of  this  assembly  of  workers  is  shown 
in  the  closing  resolution,  which  it  adopted  unani- 
mously : 

"  Resolved,  That,  recognizing  the  fact  that  our  cause  is,  and 
is  to  be,  combated  by  mighty,  determined  and  relentless  forces, 
we  will,  trusting  in  Him  who  is  the  Prince  of  Peace,  meet 
argument  with  argument,  misjudgment  with  patience,  denun- 
ciation with  kindness,  and  all  our  difficulties  and  dangers  with 
prayer." 

FIRST  YEAR'S  WORK. 

During  the  first  year  six  State  organizations  were 
added  to  the  number  represented  in  the  beginning, 
including  scores  of  local  unions.  A  monthly  paper 
was  established;  a  deputation  of  women  sent  to 
Congress  with  a  memorial,  to  which  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  signatures  had  been  obtained,  asking 
for  inquiry  and  legislation  in  regard  to  the  liquor 
traffic ;  a  manual  of  "  Hints  and  Helps,"  concerning 
methods  of  temperance  work,  prepared  and  issued ; 
and  other  agencies  of  reform,  and  for  the  extermi- 
nation of  the  liquor  traffic,  set  in  motion. 

The  reports  from  State  Unions,  made  to  the  first 
annual  meeting,  held  in  Cincinnati,  November,  1875, 
were,  in  most  cases,  highly  encouraging.  In  Ohio, 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  55? 

a  large  number  of  local  unions  were  formed, 
nearly  two  hundred  friendly  inns  established,  while 
reading-rooms,  juvenile  societies  and  young  people's 
leagues  were  reported  as  multiplying  all  over  the 
State.  Indiana  showed  effective  work  in  the  same 
direction ;  so  did  Illinois.  In  both  of  these  States 
many  local  unions,  reform  clubs  and  juvenile 
organizations  came  into  existence,  while  the  work 
of  temperance  agitation  was  carried  on  with  un- 
tiring vigor.  Iowa  reported  fifty  local  unions, 
eleven  juvenile  societies,  seven  reform  clubs  and 
six  coffee-houses  and  reading-rooms.  But,  how 
better  can  we  sum  up  the  results  of  this  year's 
work,  and  how  better  give  a  clear  idea  of  the  new 
forces  which  were  coming  into  the  field  under  the 
leadership  of  women,  than  by  giving  an  extract 
from  the  first  annual  report  of  the  corresponding 
secretary,  Miss  Frances  E.  AVillard: 

"  Briefly  to  recapitulate,  bringing  out  salient  fea- 
tures, Maine  has  given,  since  the  Crusade,  the  idea 
of  the  temperance  camp-meeting,  which,  though  not 
original  with  us,  has  been  rendered  clUvtive  largely 
through  the  efforts  of  our  own  workers.  Conmrti- 
oiit  influences  elections,  has  availed  itself  of  peti- 
tions  and  given  us  the  best  form  on  record.  >Y\v 
York  has  kept  alive  the  visitation  of  saloons,  ami 
proved,  what  may  we  never  forget,  that  this  is 
always  practicable,  if  conducted  wisely.  In  the 
relief  an  ;  branches  of  our  work,  the  Empire 

State  is  perhaps  without  a  rival.     The  women  of 


588  STEONG  DRINK; 

Pennsylvania  have  bearded  the  gubernatorial  lien 
in  his  den,  and  the  Hartranft  veto  had  the  added 
sin  of  women's  prayers  and  tears  denied.  Mary- 
land and  the  District  of  Columbia  prove  that  the 
North  must  look  to  her  laurels  when  the  South  is 
free  to  enter  on  our  work.  As  for  Ohio,  as  Daniel 
Webster  said  of  the  old  Bay  State,  *  There  she 
stands;  look  at  her!' — foremost  among  leaders  in 
the  new  Crusade.  Michigan  is  working  bravely 
amid  discouragements.  Illinois  has  given  us  the 
most  promising  phase  of  our  juvenile  work,  and 
leads  off  in  reform  clubs.  Our  best  organized  States 
are  Ohio,  Indiana,  New  York,  Pennsylvania  and 
Iowa.  By  reason  of  their  multiplied  conventions  of 
State,  district  and  county,  their  numerous  auxila- 
ries,  their  petitions  and  their  juvenile  work,  Ohio 
and  Indiana  bear  off  the  palm,  and  stand  as  the 
banner  States  of  our  Union  up  to  this  time,  each  of 
them  having  as  many  as  two  hundred  and  fifty 
auxiliaries. 

"  Our  review  develops  the  fact  that  of  the  forty- 
seven  States  and  Territories  forming  the  United 
States,  twenty-two  States  have  formed  temperance 
unions  auxiliary  to  the  Woman's  National  Union. 
Of  the  twenty-five  not  yet  organized,  twelve  are 
Southern  States  and  eight  are  Territories  ;  while  of 
the  remaining  five,  three  are  about  to  organize  State 
unions,  and  have  already  flourishing  local  unions. 
So,  that,  without  exaggeration,  we  may  say  we  have 
fairly  entered  into  the  land  to  possess  it.  To  bring 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  £89 

about  this  vast  result  of  organization,  and  to  main- 
tain it,  there  have  been  held  (not  to  mention  con- 
ions  of  districts  and  counties,  the  name  of  which 
is*legion,)  forty-five  State  conventions  of  women, 
alnmst  all  within  the  last  year. 

"  The  number  of  written  communications  sent  out 
during  the  year  from  our  Western  office  to  women 
in  every  State  in  the  Union,  is  nearly  five  thousand. 
This  is  exclusive  of  '  documents,'  which  have  gone 
by  the  bushel  from  the  Eastern  and  Western  offices, 
and  also  of  the  incessant  correspondence  of  our 
president.  Either  president  or  secretary  has  spoken 
in  nearly  every  State  in  which  our  organization 
exists.  During  the  summer  months,  conventions, 
camp-meetings  and  local  auxiliaries  in  large  num- 
bers have  been  addressed  by  officers  of  our  National 
and  State  Unions  in  all  of  the  Eastern  and  Middle 
and  in  many  of  the  Western  States.  Noteworthy 
in  our  history  for  the  year,  is  the  monster  petition 
circulated  in  nearly  every  State,  presented  to  Con- 
gress on  our  behalf  by  Senator  Morton,  of  Indiana, 
and  defended  in  an  eloquent  speech  before  the  Fi- 
nance Committee  by  our  president" 

TIIK  SECOND  YEAR'S  WOKK. 

The  second  annual  meeting  of  the  "Woman's 

National  Christian  Temperance  Union"  was  held 
in  Newark,  N.  J.,  in  October,  1876.  From  tin- 
reports  made  to  this  meeting,  we  take  the  following 
interesting  statements,  showing  how  actively  the 


500  STRONG  DRINK; 

work,  for  which  this  great  National  Association  was 
organized,  has  been  prosecuted. 

Twenty-two  State  unions  were  represented  at  this 
meeting,  and  local  unions  were  reported  as  having 
been  formed  for  the  first  time  in  Tennessee,  Louisi- 
ana and  Arkansas,  preparatory  to  State  organizations. 
An  International  Temperance  Convention  of  women 
had  been  held  in  the  Academy  of  Music,  Philadel- 
phia, from  which  resulted  an  International  Woman's 
Temperance  Union.  A  summary  of  the  work  of  the 
year  says : 

"In  almost  every  organized  State,  the  request 
of  our  National  Committee  that  ministerial,  medi- 
cal and  educational  associations  be  asked  to  de- 
clare their  position  in  relation  to  temperance  re- 
form has  been  complied  with.  In  every  instance,  the 
ladies  have  been  courteously  received,  and  in  no  case 
has  the  declaration  of  opinion  been  adverse,  and  in 
many,  most  hopeful  to  our  cause.  The  letter  of  Mi's. 
Wittenmyer  to  the  International  Medical  Convention 
recently  held  in  Philadelphia,  secured  the  important 
declaration  against  alcohol  made  by  that  body. 

"  In  February,  our  president,  accompanied  by 
Mrs.  Mary  R.  Denman,  President  of  New  Jersey 
W.  T.  U.,  made  a  trip  to  Kentucky,  Tennessee  and 
Louisiana,  in  the  endeavor  to  enlist  our  Southern 
sisters  in  the  temperance  work.  Large  meetings 
were  addressed  and  several  local  unions  organized. 

"  In  the  month  of  May  thirty-six  temperance 
meetings  were  held  in  the  State  of  Ohio,  by  the 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  591 

corresponding  secretary,  -who  nas  also  made  a  trip 
through  Michigan,  and  spoken  in  all  the  East*  ni, 
Middle  and  several  of  the  Western  States  since  the 
last  meeting. 

"  Our  recording  secretary,  Mrs.  Mary  C.  Johnson, 
has  visited  Great  Britian,  by  invitation  of  Christian 
women  there,  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  our 
Gospel  work.  Going  in  the  spirit  of  the  Crusade, 
Johnson's  labors  have  awakened  an  earnest 
spirit  of  inquiry  and  activity  among  the  thoughtful 
and  comparatively  leisure  class.  During  her  six 
months'  absence  in  England  and  Ireland,  she  ad- 
dressed one  hundred  and  twenty-one  audiences  and 
conducted  forty  prayer-meetings. 

"  '  Mother  Stewart,'  of  Ohio,  has  also  visited  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  this  year,  under  the  auspices  of 
tli«  Good  Templars,  and  much  good  has  resulted 
from  her  labors. 

"  Our  union  has  circulated  the  petition  to  Con- 
gress for  a  Commission  of  Inquiry  into  the  costs  and 
n-.-uluj  of  the  liquor  traffic  iu  America,  and  to  the 
Centennial  Commissioners  praying  them  not  to  allow 
the  sale  of  intoxicants  on  the  Exposition  grounds. 
Tin-  drsiivd  Commission  of  Inquiry  has  been  or- 
dered by  the  Senate  in  response  to  the  wish  of  t lie 
united  temperance  societies  of  the  land,  but  the  sub- 
ject did  not  come  before  the  House  at  the  last  session. 

"Our  pajH-r  has  constantly  increased  in  its  hold 
upon  the  local  unions,  whose  devotion  to  its  interests 
augurs  well  for  its  future  success. 


592  STRONG  DRINK; 

"  The  number  of  documents  scattered  among  our 
auxiliaries  cannot  be  accurately  stated,  but  is  not 
less  than  twelve  or  fifteen  thousand,  and  the  corres- 
pondence of  the  officers  by  letter  and  postal-card, 
will  not  fall  short  of  the  same  estimate.  To  correct 
misapprehensions,  it  should,  perhaps,  be  stated  that 
no  officer  of  the  National  Union  has  received  a 
dollar  for  services  or  traveling  expenses  during  the 
year." 

A  WORKING  ORGANIZATION. 

To  meet  annually  in  convention  and  pass  resolu- 
tions and  make  promises  is  one  thing ;  to  do  prac- 
tical and  effective  work  all  through  the  year  is  quite 
another.  And  it  is  just  here  that  this  new  temper- 
ance organization  exhibits  its  power.  The  women 
whom  it  represents  are  very  much  in  earnest  and 
mean  work.  What  they  resolve  to  do,  if  clearly 
seen  to  be  in  the  right  direction,  will  hardly  fail  for 
lack  of  effort.  In  their  plan  of  work,  one  branch 
particularly  embraces  the  children.  If  the  rising 
generation  can  not  only  be  pledged  to  abstinence, 
but  so  carefully  instructed  in  regard  to  the  sin  and 
evil  of  intemperance,  and  their  duty,  when  they 
become  men  and  women,  to  make  war  upon  the 
liquor  traffic,  and  to  discountenance  all  form  of 
social  drinking,  then  an  immense  gain  will  be  had 
for  the  cause  in  the  next  generation,  when  the  boys 
and  girls  of  to-day  will  hold  the  ballots,  make  the 
laws,  give  direction  to  public  sentiment  and  deter- 
mine the  usages  of  society. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cr /:/•:.  593 

LOOKING  AFTER  THE  CHILDREN. 

To  what  extent,  then,  are  the  State  and  local 
unions  looking  after  the  children?  Writing,  as  we 
now  are,  before  the  third  animal  meeting  of  the  Na- 
tional Union,  and,  therefore,  without  a  general  re- 
port of  the  year's  work  before  us,  we  are  unable  to 
t:i-ve  a  statement  in  full  of  the  important  temperance 
work  which  has  been  done  with  and  for  the  rising 

ration.  But,  from  official  and  other  reliable 
sources  of  information,  we  are  in  possession  of  facts 
of  a  most  gratifying  character.  In  the  State  of 
Minnesota,  as  the  result  of  woman's  efforts,  they 
have  had  for  several  years  a  "Sunday-School  Tem- 
pi -ranee  League,"  and  their  last  annual  report  gives 
seventeen  thousand  as  the  number  of  children  al- 
ready "  pledged  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicants  as  a 
beverage."  Says  their  report  for  1877,  "We  have 
curried  the  work  into  sixty-one  new  schools,  held 
sixty-three  anniversary  meetings  and  temperance 
concerts,  instigated  about  one  thousand  addresses  in 
the  Sunday-schools,  secured  six  thousand  six  hun- 
dred and  seventy-tour  signers  to  our  pledges,  and 
one  thousand  and  fifteen  to  our  constitution." 

In  most  of  the  larger  towns  throughout  the  United 

fl  where  active  local  unions  exist,  juvenile 
unions,  bands  of  hope  or  temperance  associations 
by  some  other  name,  have  been  formed  among  the 
children.  These  have,  in  many  cases,  a  large  mem- 
ber-hip; often  us  hi^h  as  from  five  to  six  hun- 
dred. In  llorkford,  111.,  the  juvenile  union  nuui- 


594  STRONG  DRINK; 

bers  over  eight  hundred  boys  and  as  many  girls. 
The  pledge  taken  by  these  children  includes,  in 
some  localities,  tobacco  and  profanity  as  well  as  in- 
toxicants. 

THE  WORK  OF  REFOEM  AND  RESCUE. 

In  the  work  of  reform  and  rescue,  the  State  and 
local  unions  are  very  active,  especially  in  the  larger 
towns  and  cities.  In  the  smaller  towns,  religious 
temperance  meetings  are  held  weekly,  and  in  the 
larger  cities,  daily,  and  sometimes  twice  a  day. 
Chicago  has  as  many  as  eighteen  meetings  every 
week.  In  Chapters  XIX.  and  XX.  of  the  first  part  of 
this  volume,  we  have  described  at  length,  and  from 
personal  observation,  the  way  in  which  these  tem- 
perance prayer-meetings  are  generally  conducted, 
and  the  means  used  for  lifting  up  and  saving  the 
poor  drunkard. 

What  are  known  as  "  Reform  Clubs,"  have  grown 
out  of  the  efforts  made  of  these  praying  women,  to 
hold  in  safety  the  men  whom  they  have  been  able  to 
rescue.  These  clubs  are  numerous  in  New  England 
and  the  Western  States,  and  have  a  large  member- 
ship, which  is  composed  exclusively  of  reformed  men. 
The  common  platform  upon  which  they  all  stand  is : 
1.  Total  abstinence.  2.  Reliance  upon  God's  help 
in  all  things.  3.  Missionary  work  to  induce  others 
to  sign  the  pledge.  In  Newark,  N.  J.,  there  .is  a  club 
with  a  membership  of  over  six  hundred  reformed 
men,  nearly  all  of  whom  have  been  rescued  in  the 


Tin-:  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  595 

three  years,  through  the  efforts  of  the  Woman's 
Christian  Temperance  Union  of  that  city. 

In  an  interview  with  Mrs.  Wittenmyer,  President 
of  the  National  Union,  who  had  received  reports  of 
the  third  year's  work  from  the  various  unions,  we 
learned  that,  after  deducting  from  the  returns  all 
who  were  known  to  have  broken  the  pledge,  ten 
thousand  remained  as  the  number  reported  to  have 
been  saved  during  the  year,  and  who  were  still 
standing  in  the  strength  which  God  had  given  them. 
The  larger  part  of  these  rescued  men  had  united 
themselves  with  the  church,  and  were  earnestly  en- 
deavoring to  lead  Christian  lives. 

KEEPING  ALIVE  A  SENTIMENT    ADVERSE  TO  THE 
LIQUOR  TRAFFIC. 

Another  and  most  important  branch  of  the  work  of 
the  "  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union,"  is  that 
of  arousing,  keepingaliveand  intensifyinga  sentiment 
adverse  to  the  liquor  traffic.  So  long  as  the  State 
and  National  Governments  give  the  sanction  of  law 
to  this  traffic,  they  find  their  efforts  to  save  the 
fallen,  utterly  unavailing  in  far  too  many  instaiicvs. 
In  an  appeal  made  by  the  women  of  the  Si  ate 
Union  to  the  voters  of  Massachusetts,  under  date  of 
August  loth,  1877,  the  curse  of  this  traffic  is  exhih- 
itcd  in  words  of  solemn  earnest  ness.  Thedocuinent  is 
strong  and  convincing,  yet  temperate  and  respect- 
ful. We  copy  it  entire  as  presenting  ar^nii, 
and  considerations  which  every  humane  and 


596  STRONG  DRINK; 

Christian  voter  in  the  laud  should  lay  deeply  to 
heart : 

"The  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union 
comes  to  you  with  a  solemn  and  earnest  appeal. 

"  Our  mission  is  the  redemption  of  the  Common- 
wealth from  the  curse  of  intemperance.  During 
the  past  year  we  have  labored  incessantly  for  this 
end,  and  have  expended  nearly  twenty  thousand 
dollars  in  efforts  to  rescue  the  perishing,  and  to 
educate  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  total  abstinence. 

"  In  this  work  we  have  met  numerous  obstacles — 
the  apathy  of  the  people,  the  inherited  and  depraved 
appetites  of  drunkards,  and  the  perilous  social  cus- 
toms of  the  day,  which  are  indorsed  by  the  practice 
of  many  otherwise  excellent  people.  Worse  than 
all  these  combined  is  the  influence  of  the  licensed 
dram-shop.  We  can  arouse  the  indifferent  to  action ; 
we  can  enkindle  in  the  drunkard  aspirations  for  a 
better  life  than  that  of  debauchery ;  we  hope,  in 
time,  by  constant  agitation,  to  change  the  social 
customs  of  the  day.  But  against  the  influence  of 
the  licensed  dram-shop  we  are  powerless.  We  have, 
no  ability  to  cope  with  this  most  formidable  enemy 
of  virtue,  prosperity  and  good  order. 

"A  long  and  bitter  experience  compels  us  to  pay 
that  the  most  untiring  efforts  to  reclaim  the  drunkard 
have,  in  many  instances,  proved  unavailing,  because 
his  demoralized  will  lias  been  powerless  to  resist  the 
temptations  placed  in  his  path  by  the  sanction  of 
the  State. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  597 

"  Worse,  if  possible,  even  than  this — the  licensed 
dnm-ehop  is  instrumental  in  creating  a  new  genera- 
tion  of  drunkards.  For  thither  resort  our  young 
men,  the  future  hope  of  the  country,  who  speedily 
fall  before  the  seductions  of  the  place,  their  habits 
of  sobriety  are  subverted,  their  moral  sense  is 
blunted,  their  will  palsied,  and  they  drift  rapidly 
into  the  appalling  condition  of  habitual  drunken- 
ness. The  licensed  drain-shops  are  recruiting  offices, 
where  another  army  of  drunkards  is  enlisted,  to  fill 
the  ranks  depleted  by  dishonored  deaths — and  the 
great  Commonwealth  extends  over  them  the  aegis  of 
its  protection,  indorsing  them  by  the  sanction  of 
law.  The  people  of  Massachusetts  drink  annually 
twenty-five  million  dollars'  worth  of  intoxicating 
liquors.  Only  God  can  furnish  the  statistics  of 
sorrow,  poverty,  disease,  vice  and  crime,  begotten  Inj 
this  fearful  consumption  of  strong  drink. 

"  Under  these  discouraging  circumstances,  men  of 
Massachusetts,  we  appeal  to  you!  The  licensed 
dram-shop  is  the  creature  of  political  action.  We 
are  wholly  destitute  of  political  power,  by  which  it 
must  be  overthrown.  Anguished  by  the  peril  of 
lathers  and  brothers,  husbands  and  sons,  we  appeal 
to  you  to  make  good  the  oft-repeated  assertion  that 
the  men  of  the  State  represent  and  protect  the 
women  of  the  State  at  the  ballot-box.  We  beseech 
you  to  make  r.iniest  efforts  to  secure  the  repeal  of 
the  license  law  at  the  next  election,  and  the  eiiaet- 


598  STRONG  DKINK; 

ment  of  a  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
liquors  as  a  beverage. 

"We  are  sure  we  speak  the  sentiment  of  the 
Christian  people  of  this  State,  and  of  all  who  stand 
for  morality,  thrift,  virtue  and  good  order,  when  we 
say  that  the  great  State  of  Massachusetts  should  not 
take  sides  with  the  drunkard-maker  against  his 
victim.  If  either  is  to  be  protected  by  law,  it  should 
be  the  drunkard,  since  he  is  the  weaker,  rather  than 
the  rumseller,  who  persistently  blocks  the  pathway 
of  reform. 

"  We  know  that  we  utter  the  voice  of  the  majority 
of  the  women  of  the  State  when  we  plead  the  cause 
of  prohibition — and  the  women  of  Massachusetts 
outnumbers  its  men  by  more  than  sixty  thousand. 
It  is  women  who  are  the  greatest  sufferers  from  the 
licensed  dram-shops  of  the  community — and  we 
pray  you,  therefore,  voters  of  Massachusetts,  to  take 
such  action  that  the  law  which  protects  these  drink- 
ing shops  may  be  blotted  from  the  statute  book  at 
the  next  election." 

This  appeal  from  the  Christian  women  of  Massa- 
chusetts is  signed  by  Mrs.  Mary  A.  Livermore, 
President,  and  Mrs.  L.  B.  Barrett,  Secretary  of  the 
State  branch  of  the  Woman's  National  Temperance 
Union,  and  shows  the  animating  spirit  of  that  body. 
No  one  can  read  it  without  a  new  impression  of  the 
wickedness  of  a  traffic  that  curses  everything  it 
touches. 

But  not  alone  in  Massachusetts  are  the  women  of 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  599 

the  "Union"  using  their  efforts  to  shape  public 
opinion  and  influence  the  ballot.  In  all  the  States 
where  unions  exist,  this  part  of  the  work  is  steadily 
prosecuted ;  and  it  cannot  be  long  ere  its  good  re- 
sults will  become  manifest  at  the  polls  in  a  steadily 
imTc-asing  anti-license  vote,  and,  ultimately  hi  the 
ranging  of  State  after  State  with  Maine,  Vermont 
and  New  Hampshire  on  the  side  of  prohibition. 

INFLUENCE  ON  THE  MEDICAL  PROFESSION. 

In  still  another  direction  important  gains  have 
been  realized.  But  for  the  efforts  of  the  Woman's 
National  and  State  Temperance  Unions  we  should 
scarcely  have  had  the  declaration  of  the  Interna- 
tional Medical  Congress  of  187G,  adverse  to  the  use 
of  alcohol  as  food  or  medicine.  Early  in  their  work, 
the  women  of  the  "  Union,"  seeing  how  largely  the 
medical  prescription  of  alcohol  was  hurting  the 
cause  of  temperance,  and  being  in  possession  of  the 
latest  results  of  chemical  and  physiological  investi- 
gation in  regard  to  its  specific  action  on  the  body, 
sent  delegations  to  various  State  medical  associations 
at  their  annual  meetings,  urging  them  to  pass  reso- 
lutions defining  its  true  status  as  a  food  or  a  im-di- 
cine  and  discouraging  its  use  in  the  profession. 
With  most  of  these  medical  associations  they  found 
a  respectful  hearing ;  and  their  presentation  of  the 
matter  had  the  effect  of  drawing  to  the  subject  the 
atu-ntion  of  a  large  number  of  medical  men  who 
hud  not,  from  old  prejudices,  or  in  consequence  of 


(300  STRONG  DEIXK; 

their  absorption  in  professional  duties,  given  careful 
attention  to  the  later  results  of  scientific  investiga- 
tion. As  a  consequence,  many  physicians  who  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  ordering  alcoholic  stimulants 
for  weak  or  convalescent  patients,  gave  up  the  prac- 
tice entirely ;  while  those  who  still  resorted  to  their 
use,  deemed  it  safest  to  be  more  guarded  in  their 
administration  than  heretofore. 

ACTION  OF  THE  INTERNATIONAL  MEDICAL  CONGRESS. 

But  the  crowning  result  of  this  effort  to  induce 
the  medical  profession  to  limit  or  abandon  the  pre- 
scription of  alcohol,  came  when  the  International 
Congress,  one  of  the  largest  and  ablest  medical 
bodies  ever  convened,  made,  through  its  "Section  on 
Medicine,"  the  brief,  but  clear  and  unequivocal  de- 
claration already  given  in  a  previous  chapter,  and  at 
once  and  forever  laid  upon  alcohol  the  ban  of  the 
profession. 

Official  communications  were  addressed  to  this 
body  by  the  National  Temperance  Society,  through 
its  president,  Hon.  Win.  E.  Dodge,  by  the  Woman's 
Christian  Temperance  Union,  through  its  president, 
Mrs.  Annie  Wittenmyer,  and  by  the  New  York 
Friends'  Temperance  Union,  asking  from  it  a  decla- 
ration as  to  the  true  character  of  alcohol  and  its 
value  in  medicine. 

The  following  is  the  full  text  of  the  memorial  of 
the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union : 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'IlK.  001 

"  To  tin-  ('Im'init'iii  iiinl  M>  ml,  rx  of  the  International 

M  '!'n-n I  ComjrcM: 

"II'  >.\oBED  SIRS  : — I  take  the  liberty,  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  Woman's  National  Christian  Tem- 
perance Union  of  the  United  States,  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  relation  of  the  medical  use  of  alcohol 
to  the  prevalence  of  that  fearful  scourge,  intemper- 
ance. 

."  The  distinguished  Dr.  Mussey  said,  many  years 
ago:  'So  long  as  alcohol  retains  a  place  among  sick 
patients,  so  long  there  will  be  drunkards.' 

"  Dr.  Hush  wrote  strongly  against  its  use  as  early 
as  1790.  And  at  one  time  the  College  of  Physicians 
at  Philadelphia  memorialized  Congress  in  favor  of 
restraining  the  use  of  distilled  liquors,  because,  as 
they  claimed,  they  were  '  destructive  of  life,  health 
and  the  faculties  of  the  mind.' 

" '  A  Medical  Declaration,'  published  in  London, 
December,  1872,  asserts  that '  it  is  believed  that  the 
inconsiderate  prescription  of  alcoholic  liquids  by 
medical  men  for  their  patients  has  given  rise,  in 
many  instances,  to  the  formation  of  intemperate 
habits.'  This  manifesto  was  signed  by  over  two 
hundred  and  fifty  of  the  leading  medical  men  of  the 
United  Kingdom.  AVhcn  the  nature  and  ell'cets  of 
alcohol  were  little  known,  it  was  thought  to  be  in- 
valnal)le  as  a  medicine.  l»ut  in  the  light  of  recent 
scientific  investigations,  its  claims  have  been  chal- 
1  and  its  value  denied. 

"  We  are  aware  that  the  question  of  the  medical 


602  STRONG  DRINK; 

use  of  alcohol  has  not  been  fully  decided,  and  that 
there  is  a  difference  of  opinion  among  the  ablest 
medical  writers.  But  we  notice  that  as  the  discus- 
sion and  investigation  goes  on,  and  the  new  facts  are 
brought  out,  its  value  as  a  remedial  agent  is  depre- 
ciated. 

"  A  great  many  claims  have  been  brought  for- 
ward in  its  favor,  but  one  b«£  one  they  have  gone 
down  under  the  severe  scrutiny  of  scientific  research, 
until  only  a  few  points  are  left  in  doubt.  In  view 
of  this,  and  the  startling  fact  that  tens  of  thousands 
die  annually  from  its  baneful  effects,  we  earnestly 
urge  you  to  give  the  subject  a  careful  examina- 
tion. 

"You  have  made  the  study  of  the  physical  na- 
ture of  man  your  life-work,  and  you  are  the  trusted 
advisers  of  the  people  in  all  matters  pertaining  to 
the  treatment  of  diseases  and  the  preservation  of 
life  and  health. 

"  You  are,  therefore,  in  a  position  to  instruct  and 
warn  the  masses  in  regard  to  its  indiscriminate  use, 
either  as  a  medicine  or  a  beverage. 

"We  feel  sure  that,  true  to  your  professional 
honor,  and  the  grave  responsibilities  of  your  distin- 
guished position,  you  will  search  out  and  give  us  the 
facts,  whatever  they  may  be. 

"  If  you  should  appoint  a  standing  committee 
from  your  own  number,  of  practical  scientific  men, 
who  would  give  time  and  thought  to  this  question, 
it  would  be  very  gratifying  to  the  one  hundred 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  C77.7'.  (503 

tJion.<fin<1  wiuiifii  I  represent,  and  most  acceptable  to 
the  LTfiH-ral  public. 

"I  am,  with  high  considerations  of  respect, 
"  Your  obed't  servant, 

"  ANNIE  WITTENMYER, 
"Pratt  W.  Nat.  Chris.  Temp.  Union. 
"  Philadelphia,  Sept.  6th,  1876." 

How  was  this  memorial  received?  Scarcely  h:i<l 
it  been  presented  ere  a  member  moved  that  it  be  laid 
on  the  table  without  reading ;  but  ere  the  vote  could 
be  taken  the  voice  of  another  member  rose  clear 
ami  strong  in  the  question  whether  that  body  could 
afford  to  treat  a  hundred  thousand  American  women 
with  such  a  discourtesy !  And  the  motion  to  lay  on 
the  table  was  lost. 

A  vote  to  refer  to  the  "  Section  on  Medicine  "  was 
largely  carried ;  and  to  that  section  the  petitioners 
took  their  case,  and  were  not  only  accorded  a  gra- 
cious and  respectful  hearing,  but,  after  a  full  dis- 
cussion of  the  subject,  a  declaration  against  the  use 
of  alcohol,  as  a  substance  both  hurtful  and  dan- 
gerous— possessing  no  food  value  whatever,  and  as 
a  medicine,  being  exceedingly  limited  in  its  range. 
All  the  points  in  reply  were  passed  upon  unani- 
mously by  the  section  to  which  the  matter  was  re- 
ferred, and  afterwards  by  the  Congress  in  full 
session,  with  but  a  single  dissenting  vote,  and  the 
result  officially  communicated  to  the  president  of 
the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union.  An 


G04  STRONG  DRINK; 

official  notification  of  the  action  of  the  Congress 
•was  also  sent  to  Hon.  Wm.  E.  Dodge,  president  of 
the  National  Temperance  Society. 

Other  aspects  of  the  work  of  this  young  and  vig- 
orous organization  might  be  given ;  but  enough  has 
been  presented  to  show  that  its  agency  in  temper- 
ance reform  is  already  far-reaching  and  powerful ; 
and  to  give  assurance  that  if  the  spirit  which  has 
influenced  and  directed  its  counsels  so  wisely  from 
the  beginning,  can  be  maintained,  it  will  achieve 
still  greater  and  more  important  victories  for  the 
cause  of  temperance. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

REFORM  CLUBa 

differ  in  some  aspects  from  most  of  the 
associations  which,  prior  to  their  organization, 
h;nl  for  tlu-ir  ohject  the  reformation  of  men  who 
li.i<l  fallen  into  habits  of  drunkenness.  The  dis- 
tinguishiiig  characteristics  of  the  reform  club  is 
its  religious  spirit,  its  dependence  upon  God  and  its 
reliance  u^on  prayer. 

The  first  movement  in  this  direction  was  made  in 
(lardiner,  Maine,  in  January,  1872,  by  Mr.  I.  K. 
od.     lie  says  of  himself  that  in  fifteen  years 
he  had  run  down  from  a  moderate  and  fashionable, 
drinker   of  wine,  to  a  constant  and   immoderate 
drinker  of  the  vilest  spirits;  and  from  the  condi- 
tion of  a  respectable  l>n>ine>.s  man  to  one  of  mi.-ery 
and  destitution.    Coming  back  to  his  wretched  home 
••lie  night,  he  saw  through  the  window  his  poor 
ing  lonely  and  sorrowful,  waiting  for  his 
return.     The  sight  touched  his  heart  and  can-ed 
him  to  reilivt,  and   then  to  res.ilvc,  that  God    heing 
his  helper  lie  would  never  drink  again.     That  reso- 
lution he  found  himself  able,  by  God's  help,  to  1 
A  few  months  later  lie  1..  -.in  the  work  of  trying  to 


606  STRONG  DRINK; 

reform  others.  His  first  effort  was  with  a  lawyer, 
an  old  friend,  who  was  as  much  reduced  by  drink 
as  he  had  been.  After  much  entreaty,  this  man 
consented  to  break  off  drinking  and  sign  the  pledge. 
Mr.  Osgood  then  drew  up  the  following  call  for  a 
meeting  which  both  signed :  "  REFORMERS'  MEET- 
ING.— There  will  be  a  meeting  of  reformed  drinkers 
at  City  Hall,  Gardiner,  on  Friday  evening,  January 
19th,  at  seven  o'clock.  A  cordial  invitation  is  ex- 
tended to  all  occasional  drinkers,  constant  drinkers, 
hard  drinkers  and  young  men  who  are  tempted  to 
drink.  Come  and  hear  what  rum  has  done  for  us." 
A  crowd  came  to  the  City  Hall.  The  two  men 
addressed  the  meeting  with  great  earnestness,  and 
then  offered  the  pledge,  which  was  signed  by  eight 
of  their  old  drinking  companions.  These  organized 
themselves  into  a  reform  club,  which  soon  reached 
a  hundred  members,  all  of  whom  had  been  men  of 
intemperate  habits.  The  movement  soon  attracted 
attention  in  other  places,  especially  among  drinking 
men,  and  clubs  multiplied  rapidly  throughout  the 
State.  In  a  few  months,  the  aggregate  membership 
reached  nearly  twenty  thousand.  In  June  of  the 
following  year,  Mr.  Osgood  began  his  work  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, under  the  auspices  of  the  Massachusetts 
Temperance  Alliance,  organizing  about  forty  clubs, 
one  of  which,  in  Havcrill,  numbered  over  three 
thousand  members.  In  New  Hampshire  and  Ver- 
mont, many  clubs  were  organized  by  Mr.  Osgood 
and  some  of  his  converts. 


Till-:  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  £07 

DR  HENKY  A    RIlYNoLDS.  < 

Another  effective  worker  in  the  field  is  Dr.  Henry 
A.  Reynolds,  of  Bangor,  Maine,  where  In-  was  born 
in  1839.  In  18G3,  he  graduated  from  the  Medical 
College  of  Harvard  University,  and  was  assistant 
surgeon  in  the  First  Maine  Regiment,  heavy  artillery, 
during  two  years  of  the  war,  receiving  an  honorable 
discharge.  He  then-  entered  upon  the  practice  of 
medicine  in  his  native  city,  and  continued  therein 
until  1874.  But  he  had  inherited  a  taste  for  strong 
drink,  through  the  indulgence  of  which  he  became 
its  abject  slave.  After  many  efforts  at  reform  which 
proved  of  no  avail,  he  resolved  to  look  to  Almighty 
God,  and  ask  for  strength  to  overcome  his  dreadful 
appetite.  About  this  time  there  was,  in  the  city  of 
]>angor,  .a  band  of  Christian  women  who  met 
frequently  to  pray  for  the  salvation  of  the  intem- 
perate. At  one  of  their  meetings,  the  doctor  pre- 
sented himself — it  was  two  days  after  he  had  knelt 
alone  in  his  office  and  prayed  to  God  for  help — and 
publicly  signed  tin-  pledge. 

Sympathy  for  those  who  were  in  the  dreadful 
slough  from  which  he  had  been  lifted,  soon  began 
ring  in  his  heart,  and  he  sought,  by  various 
methods,  to  influence  and  save  them.  After  work- 
ing for  several  months,  with  only  partial  success,  it 
becaineevide.it,  that  for  sure  and  permanent  work, 
there  must  be  organi/ation,  and  he  conceived  the 
plan  of  a  reform  elnb  made  up  exclusively  of  those 
who  had  been  drinking  men  ;  believing,  as  he  did, 


608  STRONG  DRINK; 

that  there  must  exist  between  two  men  who  had 
once  heen  intemperate,  a  sympathy  which  could  not 
exist  between  a  man  who  has,  and  one  who  has 
never,  drank  to  excess.  As  soon  as  this  matter  be- 
came clear  to  him,  Dr.  Reynolds,  by  notice  in  a 
daily  paper,  invited  the  drinking  men  of  the  city  to 
meet  him  at  a  certain  place.  Eleven  men  responded 
to  the  call,  and  the  Bangor  Reform  Club,  the  first 
of  its  kind,  was  organized,  September  10th,  1874, 
with  Dr.  Henry  A.  Reynolds  as  president.  The 
motto  of  the  new  organization  was,  "  Dare  to  do 
Right."  Filled  with  the  true  rhissionary  spirit,  this 
little  band  held  other  meetings,  and  did  their  utmost 
to  bring  in  new  members,  and  so  successful  wen; 
their  efforts,  that  in  a  few  weeks  their  membership 
swelled  to  hundreds,  and  the  whole  city. was  in  a 
state  of  excitement  over  the  new  and  strange  work 
which  had  been  inaugurated. 

From  Bangor,  the  excitement  soon  spread  through 
the  State.  Dr.  Reynolds,  believing  that  God  hud 
called  him  to  the  work  of  saving  men  from  intem- 
perance and  leading  them  to  Christ,  gave  up  his 
profession  and  threw  himself  into  the  work  of 
preaching  temperance  and  organizing  reform  clubs. 
Within  a  year  forty-five  thousand  reformed  men 
were  gathered  into  clubs  in  the  State  of  Maine.  In 
August,  1875,  at  a  meeting  of  the  National  Chris- 
tian Temperance  Camp-Meeting  Association,  held 
at  Old  Orchard,  Maine,  where  temperance  workers 
from  all  parts  of  the  country  had  congregated,  the 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  609 

lent  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Tn  ion  of  Salem,  Massachusetts,  learned  of  the  great 
work  of  reform  progressing  in  Maine  under  the 
leadership  of  Dr.  Reynolds,  and  invited  him  to  in- 
troduce his  work  in  Massachusetts  by  holding  a 
series  of  meetings  in  Salem  during  the  month  of 
September.  So  the  work  began  in  the  Old  Bay 
State,  and  within  a  year,  forty  thousand  men  of  that 
Commonwealth,  who  had  been  habitual  drinkers, 
were  organized  into  reform  clubs. 

FORMATION  OF  CLUBS. 

The  method  pursued  by  Dr.  Reynolds  in  the  for- 
mation of  these  clubs  is  very  simple.  There  is  a 
constitution  with  by-laws,  to  which  the  following 
pledge  is  prefixed :  "  Having  seen  and  felt  the  evils 
of  intemperance,  therefore,  Resolved,  That  we,  the 
undersigned,  for  our  own  good  and  the  good  of  the 
world  in  which  we  live,  do  hereby  promise  and 
en-age,  with  the  help  of  Almighty  God,  to  abstain 
from  buying,  selling  or  using  alcoholic  or  malt  bev- 
erages, wine  and  cider  included."  Article  III.  of 
the  constitution  gives  the  qualification  for  member- 
ship: "All  male  persons  of  the  age  of  eighteen  or 
upwards,  who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  using  in- 
toxicating liquor  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  are 
eligible  to  membership  in  this  club."  After  or- 
gani/.ing  a  club  of  persons  who  have  been  addicted 
to  drink,  Dr.  Reynolds  appeals  to  the  Christian 
women  of  the  locality  to  throw  around  them  the 
39 


610  STRONG  DRINK; 

shield  of  their  care  and  sympathy,  and  urges  upon 
the  people  at  large  the  necessity  of  upholding  and 
encouraging  them  in  every  possible  way. 

The  meetings  of  the  clubs  are  held  at  least  once 
during  the  week,  in  the  evenings ;  and  on  Sunday 
afternoons  or  evenings,  the  clubs,  with  the  Woman's 
Christian  Temperance  Unions,  hold  public  religious 
temperance  meetings,  which  are  often  crowded  to 
overflowing.  The  order  of  exercises  at  these  public 
meetings  consist  of  prayer,  reading  of  Scripture  and 
brief  addresses  by  reformed  men,  interspersed  with 
the  singing  of  such  hymns  as  "  Rock  of  Ages," 
"  Hold  the  Fort,"  "  I  Need  Thee  Every  Hour,"  etc. 
Brief  addresses  are  the  rule,  and  a  hymn  is  usually 
sung  between  each  address. 

The  badge  worn  by  members  of  these  reformed 
clubs  is  a  red  ribbon.  Their  motto  is  "  Dare  to  do 
Eight." 

One  of  the  first  fruits  of  the  establishment  of  a 
reform  club  in  any  locality,  is  an  increase  in  church 
attendance,  and  a  decrease  in  the  tax  rate.  In  many 
towns  where  they  exist,  liquor-selling  has  become 
unprofitable,  and  liquor-drinking  a  custom  that 
hurts  a  man's  social  standing. 

From  the  East,  Dr.  Reynolds  extended  his  labors 
into  the  West,  where  his  work  has  been  chiefly  con- 
fined to  the  State  of  Michigan.  In  a  letter  to  the 
Union,  the  organ  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Tem- 
perance Union,  under  date  of  July,  1877,  the  as- 
pect and  results  of  Dr.  Reynolds's  work  in  that  State 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl  Gil 

«ro  thus  referred  to  by  a  correspondent  from  Evans- 
ton:  "  His  plan  is  to  take  a  State  and  settle  down 
in  it '  to  stay  '  until  it  capitulates  to  the  red-ribbon 
pledge.  None  but  men  over  eighteen  years  of  age 
are  allowed  to  sign  this  pledge.  Eighty  thousand 
nit-ii  in  Mirhipm,  to-day,  wear  the  ribbon,  which  is 
a  token  of  their  signature — all  of  them  have  been 
drinking  men.  '  None  others  need  apply '  as  mem- 
bers of  Dr.  Reynolds's  Reform  Clubs.  His  method 
is  to  speak  in  a  general  way  to  the  public  on  the 
evening  of  his  arrival — his  meetings  being  held  in 
a  hall  and  thoroughly  announced.  The  next  after- 
noon, the  doctor  addresses  women,  chiefly  from  the 
medical  point  of  view.  If  they  have  not  a  W.  T. 
U.  he  organizes  one.  The  second  night  he  talks  to 
the  public  generally  again,  and  organizes  his  club, 
then  goes  on  his  way,  and  leaves  the  town  rejoicing. 
The  doctor  is  thoroughly  business-like  and  methodi- 
cal. There  is  no  doubt  about  his  securing,  in  every 
State  he  visits,  the  same  results  as  in  Michigan,  for 
his  ability  is  marked,  his  experience  growing,  his 
lity  complete  and  all  his  work  is  'begun,  con- 
tinued and  ended'  in  a  firm  reliance  upon  God." 

To  give  an  idea  of  the  excitement  created  by  tho 
presence  of  Dr.  Reynolds  in  any  community,  ami 
of  the  results  of  his  efforts  to  reclaim  intempenttt 
men,  we  copy  the  following  brief  reference  to  his 
work  in  the  spring  of  1877  : 

"It  is  impossible  to  give  figures,  for  there  are 
additions  every  day  of  hundreds  in  the  State,  and 


(512  STEONG  DRINK; 

the  climax  of  enthusiasm  is  by  no  means  reached 
in  any  town  while  Dr.  Reynolds  is  there. 

"  In  Jackson,  Sabbath  evening,  February  llth, 
two  months  after  the  organization  of  the  club, 
Union  Hall  was  so  packed  that  the  galleries  settled 
and  were  cleared,  and  hundreds  could  not  gain  ad- 
mittance. 

"As  the  result  of  ten  days'  work  in  Saginaw 
Valley — at  the  three  cities — (Bay  City,  Saginaw 
City  and  East  Saginaw),  the  clubs  number  about 
three  thousand  men. 

"  From  there,  Dr.  Reynolds  went  to  Lansing,  our 
capital,  and  at  the  first  signing,  two  hundred  and 
forty-five  joined  the  club,  which  is  far  up  in  the 
hundreds  now. 

"  The  last  and  greatest  victory  is  Detroit.  Slow, 
critical,  conservative,  staid,  not-any-shams-for-me 
Detroit. 

"  Friday  and  Saturday  nights  there  were  crowded 
houses.  Sabbath  afternoon,  two  thousand  five 
hundred  men  together,  and  a  club  of  three  hundred 
and  forty-five  formed.  Sabbath  evening,  no  room 
could  hold  the  people,  and  the  club  reached  nearly 
nine  hundred.  It  is  safe  to  say  to-day  that  a  thou- 
sand men  in  the  city  of  Detroit  are  wearing  the  red 
ribbon. 

"  Dr.  Reynolds  has  done  another  grand  work, 
and  that  is  in  bringing  up  the  W.  C.  T.  Unions. 
Everywhere  this  follows,  churches  are  packed  with 
women.  Dr.  Reynolds  tells  them  how  they  can 


THE  CURSE  AND  T1IE  CURE. 

help  tlic  men  and  their  families,  and  they  fall  into 
line  by  the  hundreds.  Three  hundred  have  enlisted 
in  Bay  City,  four  hundred  in  Lansing,  two  hundred 
in  Kn.-t  Saginaw,  and  so  on,  all  over  the  State." 

The  establishment  of  reform  clubs  has  been  more 
general  in  New  England  and  the  Western  States 
than  in  other  parts  of  the  country,  though  their  or- 
ganization in  some  or  the  Middle  States  has  been 
attended  with  marked  success.  Vermont  has  a  lar^e 
number  of  clubs,  the  membership  ranging  from  one 
hundred  to  fifteen  hundred. 

FRANCIS  MURPHY. 

The  work  of  Francis  Murphy,  which  has  been 
attended  with  such  remarkable  fervors  of  excitement 
in  nearly  every  community  where  he  has  labored, 
is  not  so  definite  in  its  purpose,  nor  so  closely  or- 
ganized, nor  so  permanent  in  its  results  as  that  of 
Dr.  Reynolds.  He  draws  vast  assemblies,  and  ob- 
tains large  numbers  of  signers  to  his  pledge,  which 
reads: 

"  With  malice  towards  none  and  charity  for  all, 
I,  the  undersigned,  do  pledge  my  word  and  honor, 
God  helping  me,  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating 
liquors  as  a  beverage,  and  that  I  will,  by  all  honor- 
able means,  encourage  others  to  abstain." 

An  Irishman  by  birth,  and  full  of  the  warm  im- 
pulse and  quick  enthusiasm  of  his  people,  he  has 
thrown  himself  into  the  work  of  temperance  reform 
with  an  earnestness  that  commands  a  hearing,  and 


614  STRONG  DRINK; 

with  an  ardor  of  appeal  and  solicitation  that  is,  for 
the  time,  almost  irresistible. 

In  the  fall  of  1869,  Francis  Murphy  found  him- 
self in  the  cell  of  a  prison  in  the  city  of  Portland, 
Maine,  to  which  he  had  been  committed  for  drunk- 
enness. '  He  had  been  a  liquor-seller,  commencing 
the  work  as  a  sober  man  with  a  good  character,  and 
ending  it  in  ruin  to  himself  and  family,  and  with 
the  curse  of  the  drunkard's  appetite  upon  him.  A 
Christian  gentleman,  Captain  Cyrus  Sturdevant,  had 
obtained  permission  of  the  authorities  to  visit  the 
jail  and  talk  and  pray  with  the  prisoners.  This 
brought  him  into  personal  contact  with  Mr.  Mur- 
phy, who  was  not  only  deeply  humiliated  at  the 
disgrace  into  which  his  intemperate  life  had  brought 
him,  but  almost  in  despair.  He  tells  the  story  of 
this  part  of  his  life  with  a  moving  eloquence.  Capt. 
Sturdevant,  after  some  solicitation,  induced  him  to 
leave  his  cell  one  Sunday  morning  and  attend  reli- 
gious services  with  the  prisoners.  He  was  in  a  state 
of  mind  to  be  deeply  impressed  by  these  services, 
and  the  result  was  a  solemn  resolution  to  walk,  with 
God's  help,  in  a  new  and  better  way.  While  yet  a 
prisoner,  he  began  his  work  of  trying  to  save  men 
from  the  curse  of  drink,  and  to  lead  them  to  enter 
upon  a  religious  life;  and  his  influence  with  his 
fellow-prisoners  was  very  marked  and  for  good. 
On  leaving  the  jail,  he  began  at  once  his  efforts  to 
rescue  others  from  the  slavery  from  which  he  hud 
escaped.  His  first  appearance  as  a  lecturer  was  in 


1UE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CWE.  £15 

the  city  of  Portland.  The  effort  was  well  received 
by  the  audience,  and  at  its  close  he  found  himself 
an  oh j ret  of  special  interest.  From  this  time,  he 
gave  himself  almost  wholly  to  the  cause  of  temper- 
ance. After  working  for  a  time  in  Portland,  and 
assisting  in  the  organization  of  a  reform  club,  he  ex- 
tended his  efforts  to  other  parts  of  the  State  of 
Maine,  and  afterwards  to  New  Hampshire  and  the 
adjoining  States,  in  which  he  labored  for  nearly 
three  years  with  marked  and  often  extraordinary 
success.  From  New  England,  Mr.  Murphy  went, 
on  invitation,  to  the  West,  and  was  very  active 
there,  especially  in  Iowa  and  Illinois,  in  which 
States  he  aroused  the  people,  and  was  instrumental 
in  the  organization  of  large  numbers  of  local  socie- 
ties and  reform  clubs. 

In  the  winter  of  1876-7,  his  work  in  Pittsburgh  was 
attended  with  remarkable  results;  over  sixty  thou- 
sand signatures  were  obtained  to  his  pledge,  and 
over  five  hundred  saloons  in  Allegheny  and  neigh- 
boring counties  closed  their  doors  for  want  of  patron- 
age. The  succeeding  spring  and  summer  Mr.  Mur- 
phy spent  in  Philadelphia,  where  the  excitement 
was  almost  as  great  as  it  had  been  in  Pittsburgh. 
P.iit,  as  in  the  last-named  city,  too  large  a  portion 
of  the  harvest  which  had  been  reaped  was  left  to 
perish  on  the  ground  for  lack  of  the  means,  or  the 
will,  to  gather  and  garner  it.  The  real  substantial 
and  enduring  work  here  has  been  that  of  the  Wo- 
man's Christian  Temperance  Union;  which  not 


STRONG  DRINK; 

only  held  its  meetings  daily  during  the  exciting 
time  of  the  Murphy  meetings,  but  has  held  them 
daily  ever  since,  keeping,  all  the  while,  hand  and 
heart  upon  the  men  who  are  trying  in  earnest  to 
reform,  and  helping,  encouraging  and  protecting 
them  by  all  the  means  in  their  power. 

Mr.  Murphy  continues  to  work  in  various  parts  of 
the  country,  attracting  large  audiences  wherever  he 
appears,  and  leading  thousands  to  sign  his  pledge. 
He  has  done  and  is  still  doing  good  service  in  the 
cause  to  which  he  is  so  earnestly  devoting  himself. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

GOSPEL   TEMPERANCE. 

AS  we  have  seen  in  the  chapters  on  the  "  Cru- 
sade," the  "  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Union,"  and  the  "  Reform  Clubs,"  this  new  temper- 
ance movement,  which  has  attained  in  the  last  few 
years  such  large  dimensions,  has  in  it  ma-ny  of 
the  features  of  a  religious  revival.  On  this  account, 
and  to  distinguish  it  from  all  preceding  efforts  to 
break  down  the  liquor  traffic  and  save  the  drunkard, 
it  has  been  called  a  Gospel  temperance  movement. 
Its  chief  reliance  with  many  has  been  on  prayer 
ami  faith,  as  agencies  by  which  the  mighty  power 
of  God  could  be  so  determined  as  not  only  to  save 
the  drunkard  from  the  curse  of  his  debasing  appr- 
tite,  but  to  so  move  and  act  upon  the  liquor-seller  as 
to  lead  him  to  abandon  his  accursed  traffic. 

THE  VALUE  OF  PRAYER  AND  FAITH  ALONE. 

At  the  commencement  of  this  movement,  which 
took  the  form  of  what  is  known  as  the  "  Woman's 
Crusade,"  the  power  of  prayer  seemed  for  awhile  to 
be  an  almost  irresistible  force.  Thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  men  were,  as  they  felt  assured  in 
their  hearts,  freed  in  an  instant  of  time  from  an 


613  STRONG  DRINK; 

appetite  which  had  been  growing  and  strengthening 
for  years,  until  it  held  complete  mastery  over  them  ; 
and  this  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  faith.  And 
hundreds  of  saloon  and  tavern-keepers  abandoned 
their  evil  work,  because,  as  was  believed,  God,  in 
answer  to  the  prayers  of  pious  men  and  women, 
had  turned  upon  them  the  influences  of  His  Holy 
Spirit,  and  constrained  them  to  this  abandonment. 

For  awhile  this  power  of  prayer  was  regarded  as 
the  force  that  was  to  break  down  the  liquor  traffic, 
and  rescue  the  people  from  the  curse  of  appetite. 
If  prayer  were  persistent  enough,  and  faith  strong 
enough,  God  would  come  to  the  rescue,  overthrow 
the  enemy,  and  redeem  and  save  the  wretched  vic- 
tims he  was  holding  in  such  cruel  bondage.  But,  as 
time  moved  on,  and  the  enemy,  whose  ranks  were 
at  first  thrown  into  confusion,  rallied  his  forces  and 
held  himself  secure  against  renewed  attack,  there 
came  a  doubt  in  the  minds  of  many  as  to  the  value 
of  prayer  and  faith  as  the  sole  agency  by  which  the 
rule  of  the  demon  of  intemperance  was  to  be  over- 
thrown ;  and  the  same  doubt  came  as  to  the  power 
of  prayer  and  faith  alone  to  work  the  removal  of  an 
appetite  for  drink,  when  it  was  found  by  sad  expe- 
rience that  of  the  thousands  of  men  who  signed  the 
pledge  under  religious  excitement,  and  made  public 
declaration  that,  through  faith  in  Christ,  they  had 
been  healed  of  their  infirmity,  only  a  few  were  able 
to  stand  in  the  hour  of  temptation  ;  and  these  stood 
fast  because  they  rested  in  no  vain  security.  They 


THE  crnsE  AXD  THE  cn:r.  (519 

v,  from  an  inner  conviction,  that  appetite  had 
not  been  destroyed ;  and  that,  in  some  unguarded 
moment,  it  would  spring  upon  and  endeavor  to 
enslave  them  again.  But,  with  God's  help,  they 
had  resolved  to  hold  it  in  check.  Humbly  they 
looked  to  Him  for  strength — meantime  watching, 
as  well  as  praying — to  fight  and  overcome  when 
their  hour  of  trial  and  darkness  came.  So  they 
stood  ever  on  guard ;  and  God  gave  them  the 
strength  they  asked  for,  and  victory  after  victor}', 
until  their  enemy  was  under  their  feet;  not  di-ad, 
but  held  there  by  the  power  which  is  given  to  ev«-ry 
one  who  will  use  it  against  the  enemies  of  his  soul. 

PRAYER  SUPPLEMENTED  BY  ORGANIZED  WORK. 

Not  so  much  dependence  on  prayer  and  faith  now 
as  on  organized  work  in  the  natural  plane  of  means 
and  forces.  This  came  as  an  orderly  sequence,  and 
gave  to  the  cause  of  Gospel  temperance  a  surer 
foundation  to  rest  upon,  and  a  larger  promise  of 
success.  There  was  no  turning  away  from  God ;  no 
weakness  of  faith  in  His  Divine  power  and  readi- 
ness to  save;  but  clearer  light  as  to  His  ways  with 
man,  and  as  to  how  He  is  able  to  save,  to  the  uttrr- 
most,  all  who  come  unto  Him.  The  instances  goin^ 
to  show  that  men  were  not  cured  of  the  apj*ctitc  for 
strong  drink  in  a  moment  of  time  by  prayer  and 
faith,  were  too  many  and  too  sorrowful  not  to  force 
this  conviction  upon  the  mind  of  evn-y  thoughtful 
and  observant  ( 'hri.-tian  man  and  woman.  And,  so, 


620  STRONG  DRINK;' 

even  while  many  sincere  and  self-devoted  workers 
in  this  cause  still  hold  to  the  view  that  God  can, 
and  will,  if  the  faith  be  strong  enough,  change  a 
man  in  an  instant  of  time,  and  with  no  co-operation 
of  his  own  beyond  this  act  of  faith,  from  vileness  to 
purity — from  a  love  of  evil  to  a  love  of  good — the 
sounder,  safer  and  more  Scriptural  doctrine  that,  if 
a  man  would  be  saved  from  the  enemies  of  his  soul, 
he  must  fight  and  overcome  them  in  the  strength 
which  God  gives  to  all  who  will  ask  and  receive,  is 
the  one  now  more  generally  preached  to  reformed 
men ;  and,  as  a  result,  the  number  of  those  who 
stand  fast  in  the  new  life  to  which  they  have  at- 
tained, is  steadily  increasing. 

THE  APPETITE  FOR   DRINK  NOT   TAKEN  AWAY  IN  A 
MOMENT. 

Still,  far  too  widely  in  this  Gospel  work  of  saving 
fallen  men  from  the  power  of  appetite,  is  the  delu- 
sive idea  held  out  that  if  a  man  will  "  give  his  heart 
to  Christ,"  as  it  is  called;  that  is,  pray  humbly, 
sincerely  and  in  faith  to  have  his  sins  forgiven,  and 
his  soul  purified  from  all  evil  by  an  application  of 
Divine  grace ;  God  will,  in  answer  to  this  prayer 
alone,  and  in  an  instant  of  time,  take  away  the 
appetite  for  drink  which  has  been  for  years  gradu- 
ally gaining  the  mastery  over  him.  We  have  heard 
a  man  declare,  in  the  presence  of  an  assemblage  of 
men  who  had  been  slaves  to  drink,  and  who  were 
seeking  for  a  way  of  escape,  that  God  had,  in  answer 


THE  CURSE  AND  TIIE  d 

to  his  prayers,  destroyed  in  a  moment  the  appetite 
which  had  long  held  him  in  a  close  bondage;  and 
that,  it'  they  would  come  to  Him  and  give  Him 
their  hearts,  He  would  work  in  them  the  same 
miracle  of  spiritual  healing.  As  we  listened  to  his 
confident  speech,  we  felt  how  great  was  the  danger 
in  which  he  himself  stood,  and  how  much  hetter 
it  would  have  been  for  his  hearers  if  he  had  kept 
silent. 

HOW  MANY  ARE  REALLY  SAVED. 

Facts  are  solid  things,  and  weigh  heavily  in  the 
scale  of  argument.  They  are  not  always  pleasant  to 
look  at ;  but  it  is  weakness  to  ignore  them.  Let  us 
take  a  few  facts  in  connection  with  this  Gospel 
temperance  work.  The  first  of  these  came  to  our 
knowledge  while  we  were  revolving  the  contents  of 
this  chapter,  and  before  we  had  commenced  writing 
it.  A  leading  temperance  worker,  who  was  an 
active  participant  in  the  Murphy  movement,  and 
wh<>  holds  that  there  is  for  the  confirmed  drunkard 
no  bopeor  safety  hut  in  the  power  of  religion,  stated 
to  us  that  during  the  Moody  and  San  key  revival  in 
Philadelphia, something  <>ver  two  hundred  drunken 
men  were  reclaimed  and  converted;  changed  in 
heart,  as  it  was  declared,  and  "saved"  by  the  power 
of  ( iod.  These  were  gathered  together  on  a  certain 
evening  in  one  of  the  churches,  and  the  gentleman 
to  whom  we  have  referred  was  amon^  those  who 
addressed  them.  The  j  ik,  and  in  too  many 


622  STRONG  DRINK; 

instances,  friendless  and  homeless  men  were  talked 
to,  and  then  committed  to  God  in  prayer.  They 
had  His  grace  in  their  hearts — had  been  "saved" 
through  prayer  and  faith — and  would  He  not  care 
for,  protect  and  defend  them  ? 

Alas,  for  the  sequel !  Of  all  these  two  hundred 
converted  and  "saved"  men,  who  had,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  time,  been  changed  from  servants  of  sensu- 
ality and  sin  into  children  of  God,  their  souls  made 
"  whiter  than  snow,"  not  over  five  or  six  can  to-day 
be  found  in  the  ranks  of  sober  men ! 

In  and  around  Pittsburgh,  during  the  religious 
temperance  revival  which,  under  Francis  Murphy, 
wrought  such  marvels  in  that  city  and  neighborhood, 
over  fifty  thousand  signatures  were  obtained  to  the 
pledge,  the  signers,  in  a  large  number  of  cases, 
professing  faith  in  Christ,  and  having  an  inner  as- 
surance, as  they  believed,  that  He  would  keep  them, 
by  the  power  of  His  grace,  from  again  falling  into 
the  sin  and  misery  of  intemperance.  But,  to-day, 
only  a  small  proportionate  number  can  be  found 
out  of  this  great  multitude  who  are  standing  fast  by 
their  profession.  A  like  result  has  followed  the 
great  Gospel  work  of  Mr.  Murphy  in  Philadelphia. 
Of  the  thirty  or  forty  thousand  who  signed  the 
pledge  and  professed  to  be  saved  through  faith  in 
Christ,  the  number  of  men  who  have  been  rescued 
from  drunkenness  can  scarcely  be  counted  by  hun- 
dreds ;  and  of  these  the  large  proportion  owe  their 
salvation  to  the  natural  safeguards  and  orderly  ex- 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  023 

trnuil  conditions  which  were  brought  to  the  aid  of 
spiritual  resolve  and  spiritual  forces. 

When  the  excitement  of  these  great  revivals  was 
over,  and  the  contagious  enthusiasm  had  died  away, 
and  men  fell  back  into  their  old  ways,  amid  old 
surroundings  and  temptations,  each  alone  in  the 
house  of  his  own  real  lite,  then  came 

THE  TRIAL  AND  THE  TEST, 

and  it  was  found  that  to  depend  on  grace  alone,  and 
the  inner  change  it  had  effected  in  answer  to 
prayer,  was  to  rest,  too  often,  in  a  vain  security. 
Tin.-  new  convert  was  the  same  as  to  the  essential 
evil  quality  of  his  life  as  before  his  conversion — or 
turning  round  to  go  the  other  way — and  if  he  stood 
still  where  he  had  turned,  and  did  not,  in  a  new 
life  of  practical  obedience  to  Divine  laws,  walk  for- 
ward in  the  Heavenly  road,  his  conversion  would 
avail  him  nothing.  Not  that  he  was  left  alone  by 
God  to  stand  or  fall  as  he  might.  No  human  heart 
ever  felt  even  the  faintest  motions  of  that  Divine 
pity,  and  compassion,  and  yearning  to  save  his  lost 
and  perishing  children,  whieh  is  felt  by  our  Heav- 
enly Father,  who  is  very  love  itself.  But  lie  can- 
not save  humanity  by  destroying  it,  and  this  destruc- 
tion would  take  plaee  the  moment  he  touched  man's 
freedom  to  choose  between  good  and  evil.  Of  his 
own  will,  man  h:is  turned  away  from  God;  and  of 
his  own  will  he  must  return  to  Him  if  ever  he  re- 
turn at  all.  The  way  of  return  has  been  opened 


(524  STRONG  DRINK; 

and  made  plain,  and  God  is  forever  calling  and  en- 
treating His  poor,  wandering  ones  to  come  back, 
and  offering  them  strength  to  walk,  and  weapons  to 
fight,  and  armor  for  defense.  But  He  cannot  walk 
for  them,  nor  fight  for  them,  nor  defend  them  un- 
less they  put  on  the  armor  His  mercy  supplies. 
They  must,  of  themselves,  using  the  strength  He 
gives  them,  walk  in  the  Heavenly  way ;  and  with 
the  sword  of  Divine  truth  He  places  in  their  hands, 
do  battle  with  the  enemies  of  their  souls.  There  is 
no  other  means  of  attaining  Heaven.  This  strength 
to  walk  and  fight  and  overcome,  is  the  Divine  grace 
that  saves.  It  is  the  free  gift  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ ;  the  very  power  of  God  unto 
salvation. 

THE  DIVINE  GRACE  THAT  SAVES. 

It  is  by  the  application  of  this  Divine  grace  that 
men  are  saved  from  their  sins  and  from  the  power 
of  hell.  But  they  can  never  receive  it  as  passive 
subjects.  They  must  take  it  and  apply  it  in  and  of 
themselves,  and  use  it  as  if  it  were  their  own  ;  yet 
never  forgetting  that  it  is  the  gift  of  God,  and  never 
ceasing  to  acknowledge  and  thank  Him  for  His  in- 
finite goodness  and  mercy  in  teaching  their  "  hands 
to  war ;"  in  "  girding  "  them  "  with  strength  unto 
the  battle,"  and  in  giving  them  a  "  lamp  unto  their 
feet  and  a  light  unto  their  path,"  so  that  they  may 
walk  in  safety. 

If  salvation  were  of  grace  alone,  as  so  many  teach 
in   this   Gospel   temperance   work,   what   need   of 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  C! 

"  sword,"  or  "  armor,"  or  a  "  lamp  unto  the  feet  ?" 
for  if,  in  answer  to  prayer  and  faith,  a  man's  evil 
nature  is  instantly  changed,  he  is  no  longer  subject 
to  temptation,  and  cannot,  therefore,  enter  into  coin- 
bat  with  evil;  and  if  God  lift  him  out  of  the  dark- 
ness of  his  carnal  nature  into  the  light  of  regenera- 
tion solely  in  answer  to  prayer,  what  need  of  any 
lamp  unto  his  feet  or  light  unto  his  path  ?  He  is  no 
longer  a  pilgrim  and  a  wayfarer,  journeying  heaven- 
ward through  an  enemy's  land. 

\\'e  press  this  subject  on  the  reader's  attention, 
because  so  much  of  success  or  failure  in  this  great 
Gospel  temperance  work  depends  on  a  right  under- 
standing of  spiritual  laws  and  a  true  comprehen- 
sion of  the  means  of  salvation.  Holding,  as  we  do, 
that,  for  the  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  unhappy  and  wretched  men  and  women  in  our 
land  who  have  become  the  almost  helpless  slaves  of 
an  appetite  which  is  rarely,  if  ever,  wholly  destroyed, 
no  true  succor  lies  in  anything  but  Divine  grace 
and  help,  we  feel  that  a  great  responsibility  rests 
with  all  who,  in  the  providence  of  God,  have  been 
drawn  into  this  work. 

Referring  to  the  loose,  and  we  cannot  help  saying 
hurtful  teachings  of  too  many  temperance  n  vi- 
va! ists,  Rev.  Charles  I.  Warren,  writing  in  the 
New  York  Christian  Advocate,  says : 

"  Religious  conversion,  all  are  agreed,  is  the  first 
-iiy  tor  all  men,  and  i^>ccially  for  inebriates, 
as  the  surest  hope  of  a  real  and  permanent  refor- 
40 


626  STRONG  DRINK; 

mation  of  life.  And  intemperate  men,  especially 
those  who  become  demented  rather  than  demonized, 
it  is  well  known,  are  always  easily  moved  by  reli- 
gious influences,  even  when  so  drunk  that  they 
would  wisely  be  deemed  incompetent  to  execute  a 
will  for  the  disposal  of  earthly  property,  and  inca- 
pable of  giving  testimony  in  a  court  of  law. 

"  Yet,  this  idea  of  a  spiritual  renovation  of  the 
heart,  while  the  head  is  too  intoxicated  to  apprehend 
a  moral  obligation,  is  almost  beyond  rational  belief. 
It  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  any  man,  in  such  a 
state  of  voluntarily-induced  imbecility,  too  drunk 
to  hold  intelligent  converse  with  men,  can  be  com- 
petent to  transact  business  with  God,  to  receive  and 
answer  those  calls  from  the  Holy  Spirit  that  decide 
the  eternal  destinies  of  the  soul." 

And  he  adds :  "  We  judge  instinctively  that  all 
men,  intemperate  or  sober,  must  work  out  their  own 
salvation  with  fear,  while  God  works  in  them  to  will 
and  to  do." 

This  is  the  key-note  to  the  whole  subject  of  spir- 
itual regeneration.  It.  is  active  co-operation ;  work, 
conflict,  victory ;  and  this  down  on  the  sphere  of 
common  life,  and  in  the  midst  of  temptation — not 
out  of  the  world,  but  "  in  the  world ;"  not  some- 
thing done  in  and  for  a  man  while  he  waits  in 
prayer  on  God,  but  after  he  has  fought  his  battle 
with  some  enemy  of  his  soul,  and  overcome  in  the 
strength  which  God  has  given  him  in  answer  to 
prayer.  Only  they  who  have  fought  and  conquered 
can  possess  the  land  and  dwell  there  in  safety. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 
AN  UNSOUND  AND  DANGEROUS  DOCTRINK. 

In  a  meeting  at  which  we  were  present,  and  where 
from  one  to  two  hundred  reformed  men  were 
gathered  for  religious  worship,  and  for  help  and 
counsel,  the  hymn  commencing 

"  Prone  to  wander,  Lord  I  feel  it," 

was  sung.  At  its  close,  a  man  rose  from  his  seat  and 
entered  his  protest  against  the  singing  of  that  hymn 
any  more.  It  is  not  true,  he  said,  that  the  man 
whom  God  has  converted  feels  any  proneness  to 
wander.  He  had  had  the  grace  of  God  in  his  soul 
for — we  don't  remember  how  many  years — and  he 
could  testify  that  the  desire  to  wander  from  God's 
commandments  had  been  wholly  removed.  He, 
therefore,  repeated  his  protest  against  the  use  of  a 
hymn  containing  a  sentiment  so  dishonorable  to  a 
truly  saved  Christian.  As  he  sat  down,  a  very 
young  man  arose  and  added  the  weight  of  his  testi- 
mony to  the  assertion  of  his  older  Christian  brother. 
He  also,  in  answer  to  prayer,  as  he  confidently  as- 
serted, had  attained  unto  that  higher  life  which  is 
not  only  free  from  sin,  but  from  even  the  desire  to 
wander  from  the  ways  of  holiness. 

As  we  looked  into  and  read  the  faces  of  these  two 
UK  ii,  we  sighed  for  what  we  saw  therein,  and  pitied 
them  for  the  peril  in  which  they  stood.  But  our 
greater  concern  was  for  the  poor,  weak,  almost  hrlp- 
less  ones  we  saw  around  us,  and  for  the  effect  of  this 
delusive  error  which  had  been  so  needlessly  thrown 


628  STKONG  DRINK; 

into  their  minds.  If  any  of  them  should  rest  in 
the  belief  that  they,  too,  had,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
been  wholly  set  free  from  the  bondage  of  sin ;  that 
the  appetite  for  drink  and  the  lust  of  all  evil  had 
been  extinguished,  and  their  proneness  to  wander 
from  God  taken  away  in  simple  answer  to  prayer, 
then  would  their  danger,  we  felt,  be  so  imminent  as 
to  leave  but  little  room  for  hope  of  their  standing 
in  the  new  life.  A  stumbling-block  had  been  laid 
in  their  way  over  which  they  must  almost  surely  fall. 

We  are  writing  for  the  help  and  safety  of  men 
for  whom  there  is  but  little  or  no  hope  of  rescue 
from  the  depths  of  evil  and  sensuality  into  which 
they  have  fallen,  except  in  a  truly  religious  life ; 
not  a  life  of  mere  faith  and  sentiment  and  fancied 
holiness,  but  of  earnest  conflict  and  daily  right 
living.  A  life  in  which  not  only  intemperance  is 
to  be  shunned  as  a  sin  against  God,  but  every  im- 
pure and  evil  desire  of  the  heart,  and  every  thought 
and  purpose  of  wrong  to  the  neighbor.  And,  be- 
lieving as  we  do,  that  God's  grace  and  power  can 
only  be  given  to  those  who  will  take  it  as  active 
subjects — not  mere  passive  recipients — and  by  using 
it  as  if  it  were  their  own,  avail  themselves  of  its 
purifying  and  regenerating  influence,  we  can  do  no 
less  than  question  and  reject  any  doctine  that  even 
seems  to  give  a  different  impression,  as  delusive  and 
exceedingly  dangerous. 

To  make  Gospel  temperance  the  true  power  of 
God  unto  the  salvation  of  intemperate  men,  we 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

mn>t  liavo  in  it,  and  with  it,  the  Gospel  of  conflict 
with  evil,  the  Gospel  of  daily  right  living,  the  Gos- 
pel of  love  to  the  neighbor  and  the  Gospel  of  com- 
mon sense.  And  these  are  coming  more  and  more 
into  the  work,  which  is  widening  and  increasing, 
and  every  year  adding  thousands  upon  thousands  to 
the  number  of  those  who  are  saved  from  the  curse 
of  drink. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TEMPERANCE  COFFEE-HOUSES  AND  FEIENDLY  INNS. 

r  1 1HE  cure  of  a  drunkard  is  always  attended  with 
-L  peculiar  difficulties.  The  cost  is  often  great. 
Sometimes  cure  is  found  to  be  impossible.  A  hun- 
dred may  be  protected  from  the  ravages  of  intem- 
perance at  the  cost  of  saving  one  who  has  fallen  a 
victim  to  the  terrible  malady.  "An  ounce  of  pre- 
vention is  worth  a  pound  of  cure." 

While  so  much  is  being  done  to  reform  and  save 
the  drunkard,  the  work  of  prevention  has  not  been 
forgotten.  Great  good  has  been  accomplished  in 
this  direction  through  the  spread  of  total-abstinence 
principles.  In  this  the  various  temperance  organi- 
zations have  done  much,  and  especially  with  the 
rising  generation.  But,  so  long  as  men  are  licensed 
by  the  State  to  sell  intoxicating  drinks,  the  net  of 
the  tempter  is  spread  on  every  hand,  and  thousands 
of  the  weak  and  unwary  are  yearly  drawn  therein 
and  betrayed  to  their  ruin.  In  our  great  cities  a 
large  number  of  men  who  have  to  do  business  at 
points  remote  from  their  dwellings,  are  exposed  to 
special  temptations.  The  down-town  lunch-room 
and  dining-room  have,  in  most  cases,  their  drinking- 
bars ;  or,  if  no  bar  is  visible,  the  bill  of  fare  offers, 
630 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  (53 1 

in  too  many  cases,  any  kind  of  intoxicating  beverage 
that  may  be  desired.  Thousands  of  men  are,  in 
consequence,  yearly  led  away  from  sobriety. 

Seeing  this,  efforts  have  been  made  during  the 
past  few  years  to  establish  cheap  temperance  coffee- 
houses, where  workingmen  and  others  may  get  a 
good  noonday  lunch,  or  a  morning  and  evening 
meal  at  a  trifling  cost.  In  all  cases,  these  have 
been  found  of  great  service  to  the  cause  of  temper- 
ance. A  pint  mug  of  excellent  coffee,  with  sugar 
and  milk,  and  a  large,  sweet  roll,  costing  five  cents, 
are  found  to  make  a  far  better  and  healthier  lunch 
than  the  highly-seasoned  hashes  and  scraps  allied 
"  free  lunches,"  which  must  be  washed  down  by  a 
or  ten-cent  glass  of  liquor. 

THE  EXPERIMENT  IX  PHILADELPHIA. 

The  success  which  has  attended  the  establishment 
of  cheap  temperance  coffee-houses  in  this  city  (Phila- 
delphia), is  quite  remarkable.  In  the  fall  of  1874, 
Joshua  L.  Baily,  one  of  our  active,  clear-headi  -d  mer- 
chants, who  had  been  for  many  years  an  earnest 
tcmprranrr  man,  determined  to  give  the  cheap 
e-house  experiment  a  fair  trial,  cost  what  ii 
might;  for  he  saw  that  if  it  could  be  made  success- 
ful, it  would  be  a  powerful  agency  in  the  work  of 
pn  vmtion.  lie  began  in  a  modest  way,  taking  a 
small  store  at  the  corner  of  Market  and  Fift< 

ami    lilting   it   up  in  a  mat  and  attractive 
manner.     With  a  i'«  \v  pounds  of  coffee,  and  a  few 


(532  STRONG  DRINK; 

dozens  of  rolls,  the  place  was  opened,  the  single 
attendant,  a  woman,  acting  the  double  part  of  cook 
and  waiter.  For  five  cents  a  pint  mug  of  the  best 
Java  coffee,  with  milk  and  sugar,  and  a  good-sized 
roll,  were  furnished. 

From  the  very  start  "  The  Workingmen's  Central 
Coffee-House,"  as  Mr.  Baily  called  it,  was  successful. 
In  the  immediate  neighborhood  five  hundred  work- 
men were  employed  on  the  city  buildings,  and  oppo- 
site stood  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  freight  depot,  to 
which  came  daily  about  the  same  number  of  men — 
draymen,  teamsters  and  others.  It  took  but  a  few 
days  to  so  crowd  the  new  coffee-room  at  the  usual 
lunching  time  as  to  require  an  additional  assistant. 
From  day  to  day  the  business  went  on  increasing, 
until  more  help  and  larger  accommodations  became 
necessary.  Soon  a  complete  kitchen  had  to  be  built 
in  the  basement,  and  the  adjoining  store  added,  in 
order  to  meet  the  steadily-enlarging  demands  upon 
the  new  establishment.  The  fame  of  the  good  coffee, 
which  was  better  than  most  people  found  at  home, 
spread  far  and  near,  and  larger  and  larger  numbers 
of  clerks,  workingmen  and  others,  turned  their 
steps  daily,  at  lunch  time,  towards  the  Central 
Coffee-House.  It  was  so  much  better  than  the  poor 
stuff  served  in  most  of  the  eating-houses;  and,  with 
the  sweet  roll  added,  so  much  better  than  the  free 
lunch  and  glass  of  beer  or  whisky  with  which  too 
many  had  been  accustomed  to  regale  themselves. 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  £33 

SIGNAL  SUCCESS. 

Steadily  swelled  the  tide  of  custom.  Within  a 
year  a  third  store,  adjoining,  was  added.  But  the 
enlarged  premises  soon  proved  inadequate  to  the 
accommodation  of  the  still-increasing  crowd. 

At  this  writing  "The  Central"  is  from  six  to 
seven  times  larger  than  when  first  opened;  and 
lunch  in  its  rooms,  daily,  nearly  two  thousand 
persons.  One  room  has  been  lilted  up  tor  hulks 
exclusively,  in  which  from  forty  to  fifty  can  lunch 
at  one  time. 

But  Mr.  Baily  looked  beyond  the  cheap  coffee 
and  rolls  by  which  he  was  able  to  keep  so  many 
away  from  bar-rooms  and  restaurants  where  liquor 
was  sold.  He  believed  in  other  influences  and  safe- 
guards. And  to  this  end,  and  at  his  own  cost,  he 
lit  t«-d  up  the  various  rooms  over  the  seven  stores  ex- 
truding along  Market  Street  from  Fifteenth  to 
Broad,  in  which  the  coffee-rooms  are  located,  and 
set  them  apart  for  various  uses.  Here  is  a  lecture- 
hall,  capable  of  seating  four  hundred  persons;  a 
free  reading-room,  well  warmed  and  li^hh-d  and 
supplied  with  the  best  daily  newspapers,  American 
and  English  illustrated  publications,  and  the  stand- 
ard periodicals;  besides  four  other -rooms  that  will 
hold  from  seventy  to  one  hundred  persons,  which 
are  used  for  various  meeting  purposes,  all  in  con- 
nection with  temperance.  Five  regular  services  are 
held  in  the  lecture-room  every  week,  viz.:  "Bible 
Beading,"  on  Sunday  afternoon ;  "Temperance  Ex- 


634  STRONG  DRINK; 

perience  meeting,"  on  Monday  evening;  "Prayer 
and  Praise  meeting,"  Tuesday  evening;  "Gospel 
Temperance  meeting,"  on  Thursday  evening ;  and 
"  Youths'  Temperance  meeting,"  Friday  evening. 
These  meetings  are  often  crowded,  and,  like  the 
coffee-rooms  below,  attract  audiences  made  up  from 
every  rank  in  society.  At  many  of  these  meetings, 
Mr.  Baily  presides  in  person. 

Encouraged  by  the  success  of  this  first  effort,  Mr. 
Baily  opened  another  cheap  coffee-house  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  wholesale  trade  of  the  city,  where 
thousands  of  clerks,  workingmen  and  merchants 
were  in  the  habit  of  resorting  for  lunch  or  dinner 
to  the  restaurants  and  bar-rooms  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. This,  located  at  No.  31  South  Fourth  Street, 
he  called  "The  Model  Coffee-House." 

CKOWDED  FEOM  THE  FIRST. 

From  the  first  it  was  crowded  even  to  an  uncom- 
fortable extent.  The  demands  of  its  patrons  soon 
rendered  larger  quarters  a  necessity.  A  new  build- 
ing was  erected  specially  adapted  to  the  purpose, 
many  novel  features  being  introduced  which  a  twelve- 
month's experience  had  suggested. 

The  new  "  Model "  opened  June  1st,  187G.  Many 
persons  thought  it  was  too  large,  and  that  it  would 
never  be  filled.  But  it  was  thronged  on  the  day  of 
opening,  and  on  every  day  since  the  demands  upon 
it  have  been  fully  up  to  its  capacity.  The  num- 
ber lunching  here  daily  is  about  three  thousand. 


TUB  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE.  $35 

In  the  establishment  of  the  coffee-houses  there 
were,  of  course,  many  mistakes,  the  results  of  inex- 
perience. Many  things  had  to  be  unlearned  as 
well  as  many  learned.  But  mistakes  were  promptly 
corrected.  With  the  growth  of  the  work,  ability  to 
provide  for  it  seemed  to  keep  pace,  and  modifications 
in  the  management  were  adopted  as  necessity  dic- 
tated. Not  much  was  anticipated  at  the  commence- 
ment beyond  furnishing  a  mug  of  coffee  and  a  roll 
of  bread,  but  it  soon  became  apparent  that  something 
more  than  this  was  needed.  To  meet  this  necessity, 
the  coffee-house  bill  of  fare  was  greatly  extended, 
and  now  quite  a  variety  of  nutritious  and  substantial 
dishes  are  provided,  and  each  at  the  uniform  price 
of  five  cents.  The  main  feature — the  coffee — is, 
however,  preserved.  A  full  pint  mug  of  the  best 
Java  (equal  to  two  ordinary  cups)  with  pure,  rich 
milk  and  white  sugar,  and  two  ounces  of  either 
wiieat  or  brown  bread,  all  for  five  cents,  is  the 
ev<  ry-day  lunch  of  many  a  man  who,  but  for  this 
provision,  would  be  found  in  the  dram  shop. 

No  dish,  as  we  have  said,  costs  over  five  cents, 
whieh  is  t  lu- stain  la  nl  price  the  year  round,  wha; 
the  fluctuations  of  markets  may  be.  in  addition 
to  the  bread  and  coffee  already  mentioned  for  live. 
cents,  the  bill  of  fare  comprises  puddings  of  rice, 
tapioca  and  corn  stareh,  baked  apples  dre>sed  with 
sugar  and  milk,  all  sorts  of  pies  (half  a  pie  lieing 
given  for  a  portion),  mushes  of  craekrd  wheat,  corn 
and  oatmeal,  dumplings,  eggs,  potatoes,  brans,  ham, 


(536  STRONG  DRINK; 

corned  beef,  liver,  "scrapple,"  sausage,  custards, 
soups,  pickles  and,  in  season,  fresh  fruits.  Of  bread, 
there  are  Boston  and  Philadelphia  brown,  wheat, 
Philadelphia  and  Vienna  rolls.  A  pint  glass  of 
milk  with  a  roll,  costs  five  cents ;  butter  three  cents, 
and  extra  rolls  one  cent  each;  so  that  for  ten  or 
fifteen  cents  a  man  gets  a  full  luncheon,  as  every 
portion  of  food  is  equal  to  a  large  saucer  heaped. 

These  establishments  require,  of  course,  the  most 
methodical,  orderly  and  careful  management,  with 
capable  matrons  at  the  head  of  each,  and  a  steward 
or  superintendent  to  make  intelligent  purchases. 
At  the  "  Model  Coffee-House,"  there  are  nearly  fifty 
employees,  and,  excepting  three  or  four  men,  they 
are  girls  and  women.  The  upper  rooms  of  the 
building  are  for  the  lodgings,  offices,  laundry  and 
drawing-room,  for  the  use  of  the  employees.  The 
girls,  who  are  mostly  of  country  birth  and  training, 
are  thus  furnished  with  a  good  and  safe  home,  where 
they  have  books  and  music,  large  and  well-furnished 
chambers,  a  good  table — they  dine  at  one  family 
table  in  their  own  dining-room — and  have  their 
washing  and  ironing  done  in  the  house.  They  are 
required  to  be  neat  and  tidy  in  appearance,  respect- 
able and  discreet  in  character  and  manner. 

THE  GOOD  DONE. 

The  good  that  is  done  through  an  instrumentality 
like  this  can  never  be  fully  known.  Of  those  who 
are  drawn  into  paths  of  safety,  we  do  not  so  often 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE.  (537 

as  of  those  who  are  led  astray.  But  enough 
is  already  known  of  the  good  done  by  these  two 
coffee-houses  to  give  large  encouragement  for  their 
establishment  in  other  localities  and  other  cities. 
Hundreds  of  young  men  who  had  fallen  into  the 
dangerous  habit  of  taking  a  glass  of  beer  every  day 
with  their  lunch,  now  take  a  fragrant  cup  of  c 
instead,  and  find  themselves  better  for  the  change; 
hundreds  more  who  had  begun  to  feel  the  insidious 
encroachments  of  appetite,  have  been  able  to  get  out 
of  the  way  of  temptation. 

The  question  that  naturally  arises  with  all  who 
look  pncticallyst  this  matter  is,  whether  there  is 
any  profit  in  the  business  of  keeping  a  cheap  tem- 
perance coffee-house?  Can  a  pint  of  coffee,  with 
sugar,  milk  and  a  two-ounce  roll  of  bread,  be  fur- 
nished for  five  cents  and  leave  any  margin  for  profit? 
.Mr.  Daily's  experiment  has  proved  that  it  can. 

FKIEXDLY  INNS. 

But  not  alone  in  Philadelphia  is  the  cheap  coffee- 
house to  be  found.     There  are  hundreds  of  them  in 
our  various  towns  and  cities,  though  none  on  so 
large  a  scale  as  here;  and  they  arc  rapidly  multi- 
plying and  doing  good.     "The  Friendly  Inn,"  and 
"The  Holly-Tree  Inn,"  are  places  somewhat  similar 
in  character,  but  partaking  more  of  the  nature  of 
inn  "  than  a  simple,  eating-house.    These  have, 
!y,  a  pleasant  parlor,  with  light,  and  warmth, 
and  books,  into  which  any  oue  may  come  and  pass 


(338  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  evening,  instead  of  drifting  into  a  saloon,  and 
where  cheap  meals  and  lodgings  can  be  had  if 
needed.  In  Cleveland,  Ohio,  Christian  temperance 
work,  which  is  very  large  and  effective,  is  carried 
on  almost  entirely  in  connection  with  "  Friendly 
Inns,"  of  which  there  are  five.  A  chapel,  reading- 
room,  sleeping  apartments  and  a  cheap  restaurant 
are  maintained  in  connection  with  each  of  these 
inns.  The  women  engaged  in  the  cause  of  Gospel 
temperance  in  that  city  regard  them  as  most  valuable 
auxiliaries  to  the  spiritual  work  in  which  they  are 
engaged.  In  a  large  number  of  cases,  they  have  been 
the  direct  means  of  bringing  men  in  whom  few  traces 
of  goodness  could  at  first  be  discerned  in  such  con- 
tact with  religious  influences  as  to  win  them  over  to 
a  better  life. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TEMPERANCE    LITERATURE. 

greatest  and  most  effective  agency  in  any 
work  of  enlightenment  and  reform  is  the  press. 
By  it  the  advanced  thinker  and  Christian  philan- 
thropist is  able  to  Bpeak  to  the  whole  people,  and  to 
instruct,  persuade  and  influence  them.  He  can 
address  the  reason  and  conscience  of  thousands,  and 
<  v<  ii  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  to  whom 
he  could  never  find  access  in  any  other  way,  and  so 
turn  their  minds  to  the  right  consideration  of  ques- 
tions of  social  interest  in  regard  to  which  they  had 
been,  from  old  prejudices  or  habits  of  thinking,  in 
duubt  or  grievous  error. 

No  cause  has  been  more  largely  indebted  to  the 
press  than  that  of  temperance  reform.  From  the 
very  beginning  of  agitation  on  the  subject  of  this 
reform,  the  press  has  been  used  with  great  efficiency; 
and  to-day,  the  literature  of  temperance  is  a  force 
of  such  magnitude  and  power,  that  it  is  moving 
whole  nations,  and  compelling  Parliaments,  Chambers 
of  Deputies  and  Houses  of  Congress  to  consider  the 
claims  of  a  question  which,  if  presented  fifty  years 
ago,  would  have  been  treated,  in  these  grave  assem- 
blages, with  levity  or  contempt 
639 


640  STRONG  DRINK; 

For  many  years  after  the  reform  movement  began 
in  this  country,  the  press  was  used  with  marked 
effect.  But  as  most  of  the  books,  pamphlets  and 
tracts  which  were  issued  came  through  individual 
enterprise,  the  editions  were  often  small  and  the 
prices  high ;  and  as  the  sale  of  such  publications 
was  limited,  and  the  profit,  if  any,  light,  the  efforts 
to  create  a  broad  and  comprehensive  temperance 
literature  met  with  but  feeble  encouragement.  But 
in  1865,  a  convention  was  called  to  meet  at  Saratoga 
to  consider  the  subject  of  a  national  organization  so 
comprehensive  and  practical  that  all  the  friends  of 
temperance  in  religious  denominations  and  temper- 
ance organizations  could  unite  therein  for  common 
work.  Out  of  this  convention  grew  the 

NATIONAL  TEMPERANCE    SOCIETY  AND  PUBLICATION 

HOUSE, 

which  began,  at  once,  the  creation  of  a  temperance 
literature  worthy  of  the  great  cause  it  represented. 
The  president  of  this  society  is  Hon.  William  E. 
Dodge,  of  New  York.  The  vice-presidents  are 
ninety-two  in  number,  and  include  some  of  the  most 
distinguished  men  in  the  country ;  clergymen,  jurists, 
statesmen,  and  private  citizens  eminent  for  their 
public  spirit  and  philanthropy.  It  has  now  been 
in  existence  some  twelve  years.  Let  us  see  what  it 
has  done  in  that  time  for  temperance  literature  and 
the  direction  and  growth  of  a  public  sentiment  ad- 
verse to  the  liquor  traffic.  We  let  the  efficient  cor- 


THE  rr/:\/:  A.\D  THE  CURE.  $41 

responding  secretary  and  publishing  agent,  J.  N. 
Stearns,  speak  for  the  association  he  so  ably  repre- 
sents. Its  rooms  are  at  No.  58  Reade  Street,  New 
York.  Referring  to  the  initial  work  of  the  society, 
"It  was  resolved,"  says  Mr.  Stearns,  "that  the 
publishing  agent  should  keep  *  all  the  temperance 
literature  of  the  day/  This  was  found  to  consist  of 
less  than  a  dozen  different  publications  in  print,  and 
these  of  no  special  value.  All  the  plates  of  valuable 
works  before  in  existence  were  either  shipped  across 
the  water  or  melted  up  and  destroyed.  The  society 
commenced  at  once  to  create  a  literature  of  its  own, 
but  found  it  was  not  the  work  of  a  moment.  The 
first  publication  outside  of  its  monthly  paper,  was  a 
four-pM^e  tract  by  Rev.  T.  L.  Cuyler,  D.D.,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1866,  entitled 'A  Shot  at  the  Decanter/ of 
which  about  two  hundred  thousand  copies  have 
been  published. 

FIRST  BOOK  PUBLISHED. 

"  The  first  book  was  published  in  May  of  the 
year,  entitled,  'Scripture  Testimony  against 
Intoxicating  AVine.'  Prizes  were  offered  for  the 
best  tracts  and  books,  and  the  best  talent  in  the 
land  sought  and  solicited  to  aid  in  giving  light  upon 
every  phase  of  the  question.  The  result  has  been 
that  an  immcnso  mass  of  manuscripts  have  been 
received,  examined,  assorted,  some  approved  and 
many  rejected,  and  the  list  of  publications  has  gone 
on  steadily  increasing,  until  in  the  eleven  years  it 
41 


642  STKONG  DRINK; 

amounts  to  four  hundred  and  fifty  varieties  upon 
every  branch  of  the  temperance  question.  There 
were  over  twenty  separate  so-called  secret  temper- 
ance societies,  each  with  a  different  ritual  and  con- 
stitution, with  subordinate  organizations  scattered 
all  over  the  land.  These  contained  probably  about 
one  million  of  members.  Then  there  were  churches, 
open  societies,  State  temperance  unions,  etc.,  each 
operating  independently  and  with  no  common  bond 
of  union.  Some  were  for  moral  suasion  alone, 
others  for  political  action,  while  others  were  for  both 
united.  The  great  need  for  some  national  organi- 
zation which  should  be  a  common  centre  and 
ground  of  union,  a  medium  of  communication  be- 
tween all,  and  to  aid,  strengthen  and  benefit  every 
existing  organization  and  denomination,  was  felt  all 
over  the  land. 

"This  society  was  organized  to  supply  such  a 
need.  It  is  both  a  society  and  a  publication  house. 
The  need  and  demand  came  from  every  quarter  for 
facts,  statistics,  arguments  and  appeals  upon  every 
phase  of  the  question,  in  neat,  cheap  and  compact 
form,  which  could  be  sent  everywhere  and  used  by 
everybody.  Public  opinion  had  settled  down  against 
us,  and  light  was  needed  to  arouse  it  to  right  action. 
The  pulpit  and  the  platform  were  to  be  supplemented 
by  the  press,  which,  henceforth,  was  to  be  used  in 
this  great  and  rapidly  strengthening  cause,  as  in 
every  other,  to  reach  the  individuals  and  homes  of 
every  portion  of  the  land. 


TUE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CL'fiE.  643 

AFTER  TWELVE  YF.AK-. 

"Twelve  years  have  passed — years  of  anxious 
preparation  and  toil,  of  seed-planting  and  sowing, 
and  they  have  been  improved.  This  society  now 
puhlishes  books  and  tracts  upon  the  moral,  economi- 
cal, physiological,  political,  financial,  religious,  medi- 
cal and  social  phases  of  the  reform.  We  have  the 
writings  of  over  two  hundred  different  persons  in 
almost  every  walk  and  station  in  life.  AVe  already 
have  a  literature  of  no  mean  character.  Its  influ- 
ence is  not  only  felt  in  every  State  and  Territory  in 
the  land,  but  in  every  country  on  the  globe. 

:;:  *  #  *  *  #  :•:  =;= 

"Among  the  early  publications  of  the  society 
were  those  printed  upon  'The  Adulteration  of 
Liquors,'  '  The  Physiological  Action  of  Alcohol/ 
'Alcohol:  Its  Nature  and  Effects/  'Alcohol:  Its 
Place  and  Power/  'Is  Alcohol  Food?'  'Text- 
Book  of  Temperance/  etc.,  followed  later  by  '  Bac- 
clins  Dethroned/ ' The  Medical  Use  of  Alcohol/ 
'  Is  Alcohol  a  Neccessary  of  Life  ?'  '  Our  Wasted 
Resources/  '  On  Alcohol/  '  Prohibition  does  Pro- 
hibit/ '  Fruits  of  the  Liquor  Traffic/  'The  Throne  of 
Iniquity/  'Suppression  of  the  Liquor  Traffic,'  'Al- 
cohol as  a  Food  and  Medicine/  etc. 

"  The  truths  of  these  books  and  pamphlets,  which 
have  been  reproduced  in  a  thousand  ways  in  ser- 
mons, addresses,  newspapers,  etc.,  have  already  p«  r- 
meated  the  community  to  such  an  extent  as  to  bear 
much  fruit" 


(344  STRONG  DRINK; 

In  the  creation  of  a  literature  for  children,  the 
society  early  issued  The  Youths'  Temperance  Ban- 
ner, a  paper  for  Sunday-schools.  This  has  attained  a 
circulation  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand copies  monthly.  It  has  also  created  a  Sunday- 
school  temperance  library,  which  numbers  already 
as  many  as  seventy  bound  volumes;  editions  of 
which  reaching  in  the  aggregate  to  one  hundred 
and  eighty-three  thousand  five  hundred  and  seventy- 
six  volumes  have  already  been  sold.  The  society 
also  publishes  a  monthly  paper  called  the  National 
Temperance  Advocate,  which  has  a  wide  circulation. 

REMARKABLE  GROWTH  OF  TEMPERANCE  LITERATURE. 

The  number  of  books,  pamphlets  and  tracts  which 
have  been  issued  by  the  National  Temperance  So- 
ciety during  the  twelve  years  of  its  existence,  is  four 
hundred  and  sixty,  some  of  them  large  and  import- 
ant volumes. 

To  this  extraordinary  production  and  growth  of 
temperance  literature  in  the  past  twelve  years  are 
the  people  indebted  for  that  advanced  public  senti- 
ment which  is  to-day  gathering  such  force  and  will. 

And  here,  let  us  say,  in  behalf  of  a  society  which 
has  done  such  grand  and  noble  work,  that  from  the 
very  outset  it  has  had  to  struggle  with  pucuniary 
difficulties. 

Referring  to  the  difficulties  and  embarrassments 
with  which  the  society  has  had  to  contend  from  the 
beginning,  the  secretary  says : 


1'llK  CURSE  A ND  THE  Cl  'li /..  G45 

"The  early  financial  struggles  of  the  society  are 
known  only  to  a  very  few  persons.  It  was  deemed 
best  by  the  majority  of  the  board  not  to  let  the 
public  know  our  poverty.  Looking  hack  over  the 
eleven  years  of  severe  struggles,  pecuniary  embar- 
rn— ments,  unexpected  difliculties,  anxious  d;iys, 
toiling,  wearisome  nights,  with  hopes  of  relief  dashed 
at  almost  every  turn,  surrounded  by  the  indifference 
of  friends,  and  with  the  violent  opposition  of  enemies, 
we  can  only  wonder  that  the  society  has  breasted  the 
storm  and  is  saved  from  a  complete  and  total  wreck. 
*  This  society  never  was  endowed,  never  had 
a  working  capital,  never  has  been  the  recipient  of 
contributions  from  churches  or  of  systematic  dona- 
tions from  individuals.  It  never  has  had  a  day  of 
relief  from  financial  embarrassment  since  its  organi- 
zation ;  and  yet  there  never  has  been  a  day  but  that 
the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars  would  have  lifted  it 
out  of  its  embarrassments  and  started  it  with  a  buoy- 
ant heart  on  towards  the  accomplishment  of  its 
mission." 

And  lie  adds:  "Notwithstanding  all  these  con- 
stant and  ever-pressing  financial  emburras.sinentBj  the 
society  has  never  faltered  for  one  moment,  but  has 
gone  steadily  on  doing  its  appointed  work,  exploring 
lu-w  fields,  and  developing  both  old  and  new  truths 
and  documents  and  principles,  and  it  stands  to-day 
the  strongest  and  most  solid  and  substantial  bulwark 
against  intemperance  in  the  land." 


646  STRONG  DRINK; 

A  MOST  IMPORTANT  AGENCY. 

As  the  most  important  of  all  the  agencies  now 
used  for  the  suppression  of  the  liquor  traffic,  and  as 
the  efficient  ally  of  all  let  us  rally  to  the  support  of 
our  great  publication  house  and  see  that  it  has 
ampler  means  for  the  work  in  which  it  is  engaged. 
There  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  and  women 
in  our  land  who  are  happy  and  prosperous  to-day 
because  of  what  this  society  has  done  in  the  last 
twelve  years  to  create  a  sentiment  adverse  to  the 
traffic  and  to  the  drinking  usages  of  society.  Its 
work  is  so  silent  and  unobtrusive  in  comparison 
with  that  of  many  other  efficient,  but  more  limited 
instrumentalities,  that  we  are  apt  to  lose  sight  of 
its  claims,  and  to  fail  in  giving  an  adequate  support 
to  the  very  power,  which  is,  in  a  large  measure,  the 
source  of  power  to  all  the  rest. 

If  we  would  war  successfully  with  our  strong  and 
defiant  enemy,  we  must  look  to  it  that  the  literature 
of  temperance  does  not  languish.  We  are  not 
making  it  half  as  efficient  as  it  might  be.  Here  we 
have»a  thoroughly  organized  publication  house,  with 
capable  and  active  agents,  which,  if  the  means  were 
placed  at  its  disposal,  could  flood  the  country  with 
books,  pamphlets  and  tracts  by  millions  every  year ; 
and  we  leave  it  to  struggle  with  embarrassments, 
and  to  halting  and  crippled  work.  This  is  not  well. 
Our  literature  is  our  right  arm  in  this  great  conflict, 
and  only  in  the  degree  that  we  strengthen  this  arm 
will  we  be  successful  in  our  pursuit  of  victory. 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

LICENSE  A  FAILURE  AND  A  DISGEACE. 

FOR  over  two  hundred  years  in  this  country,  and 
for  a  much  longer  period  of  time  in  Great 
] Britain  and  some  of  the  countries  of  Continental 
Europe,  attempts  have  been  made  to  protect  the  peo- 
ple against  the  evils  of  intemperance  by  restrictive 
liquor  laws.  But  as  these  laws  were  permissive  and 
IK  »t  prohibitory,  the  evil  was  not  restrained.  Nay, 
its  larger  growth  came  as  the  natural  consequence 
of  such  laws,  for  they  not  only  gave  to  a  few  men 
in  every  community  the  right  to  live  and  grow  rich 
by  doing  all  in  their  power  to  increase  the  evil,  but 
throw  around  them  the  protection  of  the  State ;  so 
leaving  the  people  powerless  in  their  hands. 

HISTORY  OF  LICENSE  IN  MASSACHUSETTS. 

The  history  of  all  restrictive  laws  which  have 
stopped  short  of  absolute  prohibition,  is  a  history  of 
the  saddest  of  failures,  and  shows  that  to  license  an 
evil  is  to  increase  its  power. 

Judge  Robert  C.  Pitman,  in  his  "Alcohol  and  the 
State,"  an  exceedingly  valuable  discussion  of  the 
"  Problem  of  Law  as  Applied  to  the  Liquor  Tntflic," 
gives  an  instructive  history  of  the  license  laws  of 


648  STRONG  DRINK; 

Massachusetts  from  early  colonial  times  down  to  tlie 
year  1877.  The  experience  of  Massachusetts  is 
that  of  every  other  community,  State  or  nation, 
which  has  sought  to  repress  drunkenness  and  its 
attendant  evils  by  the  enactment  of  license  laws ; 
and  we  ask  the  reader's  earnest  and  candid  consid- 
eration of  the  facts  we  shall  here  present. 

As  early  as  1636,  an  effort  was  made  in  the  Old 
Colony  to  lessen  intemperance  by  the  passage  of  a 
restrictive  law,  declaring  "  That  none  be  suffered  to 
retail  wine,  strong  water  or  beer,  either  within  doors 
or  without,  except  in  inns  or  victualing-houses  al- 
lowed." That  this  law  did  not  lessen  the  evil  of 
drunkenness  is  plain  from  the  fact  that,  in  1646,  in 
the  preamble  to  a  new  liquor  law  it  was  declared  by 
the  Massachusetts  colony  that,  "Forasmuch  as  drunk- 
enness is  a  vice  to  be  abhorred  of  all  nations,  es- 
pecially of  those  who  hold  out  and  profess  the  Gos- 
pel of  Christ,  and  seeing  any  strict  law  will  not  pre- 
vail unless  the  cause  be  taken  away,  it  is,  therefore, 
ordered  by  this  Court," — What  ?  Entire  prohibition 
of  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drinks?  No.  Only, 
"That  no  merchant,  cooper  or  any  other  person 
whatever,  shall,  after  the  first  day  of  the  first  month, 
sell  any  wine  under  one-quarter  of  a  cask,  neither 
by  quart,  gallon  or  any  other  measure,  but  only  such 
taverners  as  are  licensed  to  sell  by  the  gallon" 
And  in  order  still  further  to  protect  and  encourage 
the  publican  in  his  vested  and  exclusive  right,  it 
was  further  enacted  that,  "Any  taverners  or  other 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'lll'.  £49 

persons  who  shall  inform  against  any  transgressor, 
shall  have  one-half  of  the  lines  for  his  encouragc- 
•//."  This  la\v  contained  a  section  which  forbids 
any  person  licensed  "to  sell  strong  waters,  or  any 
private  housekeeper  to  permit  any  person  to  sit 
drinking  or  tippling  strong  waters,  wine  or  strong 
beer  in  their  houses." 

THE  EVIL  STILL  INCREASING. 

Ptill  the  evil  of  drunkenness  went  on  increasing 
under  the  license  system,  until  in  1092,  we  find  in 
a  preamble  to  certain  more  stringent  laws  for  the 
regulation  of  the  traffic,  this  sad  confession :  "And 
-much  ns  the  ancient,  true  and  principal  use  of 
inns,  taverns,  ale-houses,  victualing-houses  and 
other  houses  for  common  entertainment  is  for  re- 
ceipt, relief  and  lodging  of  travelers  and  strangers, 
and  the  refreshment  of  persons  on  lawful  business. 
And  not  for  entertainment  and  harboring 
of  lewd  or  idle  people  to  spend  or  consume  their 
time  or  money  there;  therefore,  in  j>r>  >•<  ut  (he  -;w/.s- 
cltii'f  and  great  disorders  happening  daily  by  alntxe 
of  sttr/t,  Junixes,  It  is  further  enacted,"  etc. — not 
prohibition  of  the  sale;  but  further  restrictions  and 
penalties.  How  far  these  restrictions  and  penalties 
ell'ective,  appears  from  the  statue  of  169r>,  in 
the  preamble  of  which  is  a  complaint  that  divers 
»na  who  had  obtained  license  to  sell  liquor  to  be 
taken  away  and  not  drunk  in  their  houses,  did,  not- 
withstanding, "give  entertainment  to  persons  ; 


(350  STRONG  DRINK; 

drinking  and  tippling  there,"  while  others  who 
"  have  no  license  at  all  are  yet  so  hardy  as  to  run 
upon  the  law,"  to  the  "  great  increase  of  drunkenness 
and  other  debaucheries." 

These  colonial  fathers,  in  their  efforts  to  lessen 
the  evil  of  drinking  by  restrictive  license,  for  which 
a  fee  to  the  State  was  required,  opened  a  door 
for  the  unlicensed  dram-shop,  which  was  then,  as  it 
is  now,  one  of  the  worst  forms  of  the  liquor  traffic, 
because  it  is  in  the  hands  of  more  unscrupulous 
persons,  too  many  of  whom  are  of  the  lowest  and 
vilest  class,  and  whose  tippling-houses  are  dens  of 
crime  and  infamy  as  well  as  drunkenness. 

How  this  was  in  the  colony  of  Massachusetts 
under  license  in  1695  is  seen  above,  and  further 
appears  in  this  recital  taken  from  the  statute  to  fur- 
ther limit  the  spread  of  drunkenness,  wherein  it 
refers  to  "divers  ill-disposed  and  indigent  persons,  the 
pains  and  penalties  in  the  laws  already  made  not 
regarding,  who  are  so  hardy  as  to  presume  to  sell 
and  retail  strong  beer,  ale,  cider,  sherry  wine,  rum 
or  other  strong  liquors  or  mixed  drinks,  and  to  keep 
common  tippling-houses,  thereby  harboring  and  en- 
tertaining apprentices,  Indians,  negroes  and  other 
idle  and  dissolute  persons,  tending  to  the  ruin  and 
impoverishment  of  families,  and  all  impieties  and 
debaucheries,  and  if  detected  are  unable  to  pay  ///>•//• 
fine."  All  such  were  sentenced  to  the  whipping-post. 

Three  years  later,  the  curse  of  the  licensed  traffic 
had  so  augmented  that  another  effort  was  made  for 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CTIil-:. 

its  regulation  oy  the  enactment  of  a  new  and  more 
comprehensive  law  entitled,  "An  Act  for  the  In- 
specting and  Suppressing  of  Disorders  in  Licensed 
Houses." 

WORSE  AND  WORSE. 

How  successful  the  good  people  of  Massachusetts 
were  in  holding  in  check  and  regulating  the  evil 
which  they  had  clothed  with  power  by  license,  ap- 
pears in  the  preamble  to  a  new  Act  passed  in  1711, 
"  For  reclaiming  the  over  great  number  of  licensed 
houses,  many  of  which  are  chic-fly  used  for  revelling 
and  tippling,  and  become  nurseries  of  intemperance 
and  debauchery,  indulged  by  the  masters  and  keep- 
ers of  the  same  for  the  sake  of  gain." 

So  it  went  on,  from  bad  to  worse,  under  the  Colo- 
nial Government,  until  1787,  when  the  State  con- 
stitution was  adopted.  To  what  a  frightful  magni- 
tude the  evil  of  drunkenness,  provided  for  and 
fostered  by  license,  had  grown,  appears  from  an 
entry  in  the  diary  of  John  Adams,  under  date  of 
February  29th,  17GO,  in  which  he  says  that  few 
things  were  "so  fruitful  of  destructive  evils"  as 
"licensed  houses."  They  had  become,  he  declares, 
"  the  eternal  haunts  of  loose,  disorderly  people  of  the 
town,  which  renders  them  offensive  and  unfit  for  the 
entertainment  of  any  traveler  of  the  least  delicacy." 

*       :::       *       "  Young  people  arc  templed  to  wa.-le  their 

time  aii'l  money,  and  to  acquire  habits  of  intemper- 
ance and  idleness,  that  we  often  see  reduce  many  to 


652  STRONG  DRIXK; 

beggary  and  vice,  and  lead  some  of  tliem,  at  least 
to  prison  and  the  gallows." 

In  entering  upon  her  career  as  a  State,  Massachu- 
setts continued  the  license  system,  laying  upon  it 
many  prudent  restrictions,  all  of  which  were  of  no 
avail,  for  the  testimony  is  complete  as  to  the  steady 
increase  of  drunkenness,  crime  and  debauchery. 

TESTIMONY  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 

Writing  to  Mr.  Rush  in  1811,  John  Adams  says : 
"Fifty-three  years  ago  I  was  fired  with  a  zeal, 
amounting  to  enthusiasm,  against  ardent  spirits,  the 
multiplication  of  taverns,  retailers,  dram-shops  and 
tippling-houses.  Grieved  to  the  heart  to  see  the 
number  of  idlers,  thieves,  sots  and  consumptive  pa- 
tients made  for  the  physicians  in  these  infamous 
seminaries,  I  applied  to  the  Court  of  Sessions, 
procured  a  Committee  of  Inspection  and  Inquiry, 
reduced  the  number  of  licensed  houses,  etc.,  but  1 
only  acquired  the  reputation  of  a  hypocrite  and  an 
ambitious  demagogue  by  it.  The  number  of  licensed 
houses  was  soon  reinstated ;  drams,  grog  and  sotting 
were  not  diminished,  and  remain  to  this  day  as  de- 
plorable as  ever" 

OPENING  A  WIDER  DOOR. 

In  1816,  so  demoralized  had  the  sentiment  of  the 
people  become,  and  so  strong  the  liquor  interest  of 
the  State,  that  the  saving  provision  in  the  license 
laws,  which  limited  the  sale  of  liquor  to  inns  and 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  Cl'lll'.  $53 

-MS,  was  repealed,  and  licenses  were  granted  to 
common  victualers,  "  who  shall  not  be  required  to 
furnish  accommodations"  for  travelers;  and  also  to 
confectioners  on  the  same  terms  as  to  inn-keepers ; 
that  is,  to  sell  and  to  be  drunk  on  the  premises.  This 
change  in  the  license  laws  of  Massachusetts  was  de- 
clared, by  Judge  Aldrich,  in  1867,  to  be  "one  of 
tin-  most  fruitful  sources  of  crime  and  vice  that  ever 
•••d  in  this  Commonwealth." 

Up  to  as  late  as  1832,  attempts  were  continued  to 
patch  up  and  amend  the  license  laws  of  the  State; 
ai't-.T  that  they  were  left,  for  a  time,  to  do  their  evil 
work,  all  efforts  to  make  them  anything  but  pro- 
moters of  drunkenness,  crime  and  poverty  being 
•led  as  fruitless. 

"Miserable  in  principle,"  says  Judge  Pitman, 
*'  license  laws  were  found  no  less  inefficient  in  prac- 
tice." Meantime,  the  battle  against  the  liquor 
traflic  had  been  going  on  in  various  parts  of  the 
State.  In  1835,  a  law  was  secured  by  which  the 
<  >llice  of  county  commissioner  (the  licensingauthorit  y) 
was  made  an  elective  office ;  heretofore  it  had  been 
held  by  appointment.  This  gave  the  people  of  each 
county  a  local  control  over  the  liquor  question,  and 
in  the  very  first  year  the  counties  of  Plymouth  and 
Bristol  elected  boards  committed  to  the  policy  of  no 
license.  Other  counties  followed  this  good  example ; 
and  to  l>ar  all  (jue-tions  of  the  right  to  refuse  every 
license  by  a  county,  the  power  was  expressly  con- 
ferred by  a  law  passed  in  1837. 


(554  STRONG  DEINK; 

A  CHANGE  FOR  THE  BETTER. 

The  good  results  were  immediately  apparent  in 
all  places  where  license  to  sell  intoxicating  drinks 
was  refused.  After  a  thorough  investigation  of  the 
matter,  the  Judiciary  Committee  of  the  Legislature 
reported  the  evidence  to  be  "  perfectly  incontrovert- 
able,  that  the  good  order  and  the  physical  and  moral 
welfare  of  the  community  had  been  promoted  by 
refusing  to  license  the  sale  of  ardent  spirits;  and 
that  although  the  laws  have  been  and  are  violated 
to  some  extent  in  different  places,  the  practice  soon 
becomes  disreputable  and  hides .  itself  from  the 
public  eye  by  shrinking  into  obscure  and  dark 
places ;  that  noisy  and  tumultuous  assemblies  in  the 
streets  and  public  quarrels  cease  where  license  is 
refused ;  and  that  pauperism  lias  very  rapidly  di- 
minished from  the  same  cause" 

An  attempt  to  prohibit  entirely  the  retail  liquor 
traffic  was  made  in  1838,  by  the  passage  of  what 
was  known  as  the  "Fifteen-Gallon  Law,"  which 
forbade  the  sale  of  spirituous  liquors  in  a  less  quan- 
tity than  fifteen  gallons,  which  had  to  be  "  carried 
away  all  at  one  time ;"  except  by  apothecaries  and 
practicing  physicians,  who  might  sell  for  use  in  the 
arts  and  for  medicinal  purposes. 

But  this  law  remained  in  operation  only  a  year 
and  a  half;  when,  in  concession  to  the  liquor  in- 
terest of  the  State,  which  had  been  strong  enough 
to  precipitate  a  political  revolution  and  get  its  own 
men  in  the  legislature,  it  was  repealed. 


THE  CURSE  ASD  TIL 

"  But  the  State,"  says  Judge  Pitman,  "  while  the 
memory  of  licence  was  JVesh,  was  not  to  fall  again 
under  its  sway.  The  struggle  for  local  prohibition 
was  at  once  renewed,  and  in  a  few  years  licence  had 
ceased  throughout  the  Commonwealth.  The  state- 
ment may  surprise  many  ;  but  I  have  the  authority 
of  the  city  clerk  of  Boston  for  saying,  that  '  no 
licenses  for  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  were 
granted  in  Boston  between  1841  and  1852.'  *  *  * 
And  so  the  chapter  of  license  was  apparently  closed. 
It  had  not  only  had  its  'day/  but  its  centuri- 
court;  and  the  well-nigh  unanimous  verdict 


So  strong  was  this  conviction  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  of  Massachusetts,  that  Governor  Bullock,  in 
1801,  while  acting  as  chairman  of  the  Judiciary 
Committee  of  the  House,  gave  it  expression  in  these 
notable  words  :  "  It  may  be  taken  as  the  solemnly 
declared  judgment  of  the  people  of  the  Common- 
wealth, that  the  principle  of  licensing  the  traffic  in 
intoxicating  drinks  as  a  beverage,  and  thus  ulrlnij 
Ay//  sanction  to  that  which  is  regarded  in  itself  as 
an  evil,  is  no  longer  admissible  in  morals  or  in  legia- 


THE  LIQUOR  POWER  IN  TIIK  ASCENDANT  AGA  I 

But  in  1868,  adver-e  influences  prevailed,  and 
after  all  her  sad  and  di-u;raei-ful  experience,  Massa- 
chusetts abandoned  her  prohibition  of  the  traffic 
and  went  back  to  license  again  ;  but  the  evil  conse- 


(356  STRONG  DRINK; 

quences  began  to  show  themselves  so  quickly  that 
the  law  was  repealed  in  less  than  a  year. 

Governor  Claflin,  in  his  message  to  the  legisla- 
ture m  January,  1869,  thus  speaks  of  the  effect  of 
the  new  license  law :  "  The  increase  of  drunkenness 
and  crime  during  the  last  six  months,  as  compared 
with  the  same  period  of  1867,  is  very  marked  and 
decisive  as  to  the  operation  of  the  law.  The  /State 
prisons,  jails  and  houses  of  correction  are  being 
rapidly  filled,  and  will  soon  require  enlarged  ac- 
commodation if  the  commitments  continue  to  in- 
crease as  they  have  since  the  present  law  went  in 
force." 

While  the  chaplain  of  the  State  prison  in  his 
annual  report  for  1868,  says:  "The  prison  never 
was  so  full  as  at  the  present  time.  If  the  rapidly 
increasing  tide  of  intemperance,  so  greatly  swollen 
by  the  present  wretched  license  law,  is  suffered  to 
rush  on  unchecked,  there  will  be  a  fearful  increase 
of  crime,  and  the  State  must  soon  extend  the  limits 
of  the  prison,  or  create  another." 

This  law  was  repealed,  as  we  have  seen.  A  year 
of  its  bitter  fruit  was  enough  for  the  people. 

SUBMITTING  AGAIN  TO  THE  YOKE. 

But,  strange  to  say,  after  all  she  has  suffered  from 
license  laws,  the  old  Bay  State  has  again  submitted  to 
the  yoke,  and  is  once  more  in  the  hands  of  the  great 
liquor  interest.  In  1874,  she  drifted  out  from  the 
safe  harbor  of  prohibition,  and  we  find  her,  to-day,  . 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CURE.  (557 

on  the  stormy  and  storm-wrecked  sea  of  license. 
A  miserable  attempt  has  been  made  by  the  friends 
of  this  law  to  show  that  its  action  has  been  salutory 
in  Boston,  the  headquarters  of  the  liquor  power,  in 
the  diminution  of  dram-shops  and  arrests  for  drtmk- 
cnnrss.  Water  may  run  up  hill  in  Boston;  but  it 
obeys  the  law  of  gravitation  in  other  places.  We 
leave  the  reader  to  draw  his  own  conclusions  from  this 
extract  from  the  report  of  the  License  Commissioners 
of  that  city,  made  February  1st,  1877:  "It  must 
be  admitted  that  the  business  of  liquor-selling  in 
this  city  i.s,  to  a  very  large  extent,  in  the  hands  of 
irresponsible  ///>  n  <///'/  u-vinai,  whose  idea  of  a  lir 
l;i\v  ends  with  the  simple  matter  of  paying  a  certain 
sum,  the  amount  making  but  little  difference  to 
i\wm,  provided  they  are  left  to  do  as  tlicy  please 
pay  mi- nt.  Besides  the  saloons  and  bar-rooms, 
which  are  open  publicly,  the  trafiic  in  small  grocery 
stores,  in  cellars  and  in  dwelling-houses,  in  .-ome 
parts  of  the  city,  is  almost  astounding.  TJie  Sunday 
trade  is  enormous,  and  it  seems  as  if  tJicre  were  not 
f  eiwityh  in  the  whole  round  of  ticenty-fourt  or 
•iyh  In  the  entire  week  to  satisfy  the  dcal>  n." 

Tin-  experience  of  Massachusetts  is,  as  we  have 

already  said,  the  experience  of  every  community, 

or  nation  in  which  ail  effort  has  been  made  to 

abridge  the  evils  of  intemperance  by  licensing  the 

dram-shop. 

And  to  whom  and  to  what  class  of  citizens  does 
the   State   accord,  under   lic»  M--  ,  the   privilege   of 
49 


658  STKONG  DRINK; 

making  gain  out  of  the  people's  loss  ?  For  whom 
is  every  interest  in  the  nation  taxed  and  every  in- 
dustry hurt  ?  For  whom  are  the  houses  of  the  poor 
made  poorer ;  and  the  supply  of  bread  diminished  ? 
For  whom  are  a  crime-assaulted  and  pauper-ridden 
people  driven  to  build  jails  and  poor-houses,  and 
insane  asylums,  and  maintain  courts  and  juries  and 
a  vast  army  of  police,  at  the  cost  of  millions  of 
dollars  every  year  ? 

For  great  benefactors  to  whom  the  nation  owes  a 
debt  of  gratitude?  For  men  who  are  engaged  in 
great  industrial  or  commercial  enterprises?  Pro- 
moters of  education  ?  leaders  in  the  great  march  of 
civilization  ?  Even  if  this  were  so,  better  not  to  have 
accepted  the  service  than  pay  f6r  it  at  so  fearful  a  cost. 

Who  and  what  are  these  men  ? — this  great  priv- 
ileged class  ?  Let  us  see.  In  Boston,  we  have  the 
testimony  of  the  License  Commissioners  that  liquor- 
selling  is  in  the  hands  of  "  irresponsible  men  and 
women,"  who  pay  a  license  for  the  privilege  of  doing 
"  as  they  please  after  payment."  And  for  the  main- 
tenance of  these  "  irresponsible  "  men  and  women 
in  their  right  to  corrupt  and  degrade  the  people,  a 
forced  tax  is  laid  on  every  bit  of  property  and  every 
interest  in  the  great  city  of  Boston !  What  was  the 
tax  on  tea  to  this  ?  And  yet,  Boston  patiently  sub- 
mits I 

Is  it  better  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Balti- 
more, Cincinnati,  Chicago  or  any  other  of  our 
large  cities?  Not  a  whit!  In  some  it  is  worse, 


THE  CUSSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

even,  than  in  the  capital  of  the  old  Bay  State.  In 
one  of  these  last-mentioned  cities,  where,  under  the 
license  system  so  dear  to  politicians,  and  for  which 
they  are  chiefly  responsible,  between  seven  and  eight 
thousand  places  in  which  liquor  is  sold  at  retail 
exist,  an  effort  was  made  in  1876  to  ascertain  the 
character  and  antecedents  of  every  person  engaged 
in  drain -selling.  We  are  not  able  to  say  how  care- 
fully or  thoroughly  the  investigation  was  pursued, 
but  it  was  in  the  hands  of  those  who  meant  that  it 
should  be  complete  and  accurate.  One  fact  elicited 
was,  that  the  proportion  of  native-born  citizens  to 
the  whole  number  engaged  in  the  business  was  less 
than  one-sixth.  Another  was,  that  over  six  thou- 
sand of  these  dram-sellers  belonged  to  the  criminal 
class,  and  had  suffered  imprisonment,  some  for  cx- 
tmde-d  terms  in  the  State  prison.  And  another  was, 
that  nearly  four  thousand  of  the  drinking-places 
which  had  been  established  under  the  fostering  care 
of  State  license  laws  were  houses  of  ill-fame  as  well! 
Comment  is  unnecessary. 

We  cannot  lessen  the  evil  nor  abate  the  curse  of 
drunkenness  so  long  as  we  license  a  traffic,  which, 
from  its  essential  hostility  to  all  the  best  interests  of 
society,  naturally  fulls  into  the  hands  of  our  worst 
citizens,  who  persistently  violate  every  salutary  and 
•ictive  feature  in  the  laws  which  give  their  trade 
a  recognized  existence. 

What  then  ?  Is  there  any  remedy  short  of  Pro- 
hibition? Wu  believe  not. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

PBOHIBITION. 

~T~T  has  taken  nearly  half  a  century  to  convince  the 
•=»-  people  that  only  in  total  abstinence  lies  any 
hope  of  cure  for  the  drunkard.  When  this  doctrine 
was  first  announced,  its  advocates  met  with  opposi- 
tion, ridicule  and  even  insult.  Now  it  has  almost 
universal  acceptance.  The  effort  to  hold  an  inebri- 
ate's appetite  in  check  by  any  restriction  that  in- 
cluded license,  has,  in  all  cases,  proved  so  signal  a 
failure,  that  the  "  letting  down,"  or  "  tapering  off" 
process  has  been  wholly  abandoned  in  inebriate  asy- 
lums. There  is  no  hope,  as  we  have  said,  but  in 
complete  abstinence. 

NO  EEMEDY  BUT  PKOHIBITION. 

Is  there  any  other  means  of  cure  for  national 
drunkenness?  The  remedy  of  license  has  been 
found  as  valueless  for  the  whole  people  as  restriction 
for  the  individual.  Appetite,  when  once  depraved, 
becomes,  in  the  individual,  lawless,  exacting  and 
unscrupulous;  not  hesitating  to  trample  on  duty, 
justice,  humanity  and  every  public  and  private 
virtue.  It  will  keep  no  faith ;  it  will  hold  to  no 
pledge,  however  solemnly  taken.  It  must  be  wholly 
denied  or  it  will  be  wholly  master. 
660 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

As  in  the  individual,  so  in  the  nation,  State  or 
community.      Appetite  loses  nothing  by  aggr 
tion  ;  nor  are  the  laws  of  its  action  changed.     If  not 
denied  by  prohibition  in  the  State,  as  by  total  absti- 
nence in  the  individual,  it  will  continue  to  entail 
upon  the  people  loss  and  ruin  and  unutterable  • 
License,  restrictive  permission,  tax,  all  will  be  vain  in 
the  future  as  they  have  been  in  the  past    There  is  no 
Lope,  no  help,  no  refuge  in  anything  but  Proh  iltit'mn  ! 

And  here  we  art  met  by  two  questions,  fairly  and 
honestly  asked.  First.  Is  prohibition  right  in  the 
abstract  as  a  legislative  measure?  Seconi.  Can 
prohibitory  laws  be  enforced,  and  will  they  cure  the 
evil  of  drunkenness? 

First,  as  to  the  question  of  legislative  action. 
Can  the  State  forbid  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drinks 
as  a  beverage  without  violating  the  natural  right  of 
en  lain  citi/.ens,  engaged  in  the  manufacture  and  sale 
of  these  articles,  to  supply  them  to  customers  who 

h  to  purchase? 

\\V  answer,  that  no  man  has  a  natural  right  to 
do  wrong;  that  is,  to  engage  in  any  pursuit  by 
which  he  makes  gain  out  of  loss  and  injury  to  his 
Ijor.  The  essential  principle  of  government 
is  the  well-being  of  the  people.  It  guarantees  to 
the  weak,  security  against  the  strong;  it  pun' 
evil  doers,  and  seeks  to  protect  its  citizens  from  the 
evil  effects  of  that  unscrupulous  selli.-hness  in  the 
individual  which  would  trample  on  the-  rights  uf  all 
tin-  rest  in  its  pursuit  of  money  or  power. 


STRONG  DRIXK; 

Now,  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  liquor  traffic  is 
a  good  thing;  that  it  benefits  the  people;  makes 
them  more  prosperous  and  happy ;  improves  their 
health ;  promotes  education  and  encourages  virtue, 
then  its  right  to  exist  in  the  community  has  been  es- 
tablished. Or,  even  if  the  good  claimed  for  it  be  only 
negative  instead  of  positive,  its  right  must  still  be 
unquestioned.  But  what  if  it  works  evil  and  only 
evil  in  the  State  ?  "What  if  it  blights  and  curses 
every  neighborhood,  and  town,  and  city,  and  nation 
in  which  it  exists ;  laying  heavy  taxes  upon  the 
peopl^  that  it  may  live  and  flourish,  crippling  all 
industries;  corrupting  the  morals  of  the  people; 
enticing  the  young  from  virtue ;  filling  jails,  and 
poor-houses,  and  asylums  with  a  great  army  of 
criminals,  paupers  and  insane  men  and  women, 
yearly  extinguishing  the  light  in  thousands  of  happy 
homes  ?  What  then  ? 

Does  this  fruit  of  the  liquor  traffic  establish  its 
right  to  existence  and  to  the  protection  of  law  ?  Let 
the  reader  answer  the  question  for  himself.  That 
it  entails  all  of  these  evils,  and  many  more,  upon 
the  community,  cannot  and  will  not  be  denied. 
That  it  does  any  good,  cannot  be  shown.  Fairly, 
then,  it  has  no  right  to  existence  in  any  government 
established  for  the  good  of  the  people ;  and  in  sup- 
pressing it,  no  wrong  can  be  done. 

PROHIBITION  NOT  UNCONSTITUTIONAL. 

How  the  question  of  prohibition  is  regarded  by 
the  highest  legal  authority  in  the  United  States  will 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  CURE. 

appear  from  the  following  opinions  officially  given 
1  -y  t •  >ur  of  l  he  Justices  of  our  Supreme  Court.    They 
xpressed  in  no  doubtful  or  hesitating  form  of 
speech : 

Chief  Justice  Taney  said :  "  If  any  State  deems 
tin-  ivtail  and  internal  traffic  in  ardent  spirits  inju- 
to  its  citizens,  and  calculated  to  produce  idle- 
ness, vice  or  debauchery,  I  see  nothing  in  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States  to  prevent  it  from 
regulating  or  restraining  the  traffic,  or  from  pro- 
hibiting it  altogether,  if  it  thinks  proper." — [5 
Howard,  ~»77.] 

Hon.  Justice  McLean  said :  "A  license  to  sell  is 
a  matter  of  police  and  revenue  within  the  power  of 
th,.  S;ate."— [5  Ibid.,  589.]  "  If  the  foreign  article 
be  injurious  to  the  health  and  morals  of  the  com- 
munity, a  {State  may  prohibit  the  sale  of  it." 

1 1  on.  Justice  Catron  said :  "  If  the  State  lias  the 
power  of  restraint  by  license  to  any  extent,  she  may 
go  to  the  length  of  prohibiting  sales  altogether." — 
Ibid.,  611.] 

1  Ion.  Justice  Grier  said :  "  It  is  not  necessary  to 
array  the  appalling  statistics  of  misery,  pauperism 
and  crime  which  have  their  origin  in  the  ii.-o  and 
abuse  of  ardent  spirits.  The  police  power,  which 
•lusivi-ly  in  the  fttute,  is  competent  to  the  cor- 
rection of  these  L  ils,  and  all  measures  of  re- 
straint or  prohibition  necessary  to  «-ll«vt  that  purpose 
are  within  thescope  of  that  authority." — [Il»i<L  5 

That  the  State  has  a  clear  right  to  prohibit  the 


(504  STRONG  DRINK; 

sale  of  intoxicating  drinks,  because  this  sale  not 
only  hurts  all  other  interests,  but  destroys  the  health 
and  degrades  the  morals  of  the  people,  has  been 
fully  shown. 

The  question  next  to  be  considered  is,  Can  pro- 
hibitory laws  be  enforced  ?  and  if  so,  will  they  re- 
move from  the  people  the  curse  of  drunkenness  ? 

CAN  PROHIBITORY  LAWS  BE  ENFORCED? 

As  to  the  complete  enforcement  of  any  salutory 
law,  that  depends  mainly  on  the  public  sentiment 
regarding  it,  and  on  the  organized  strength  of  its 
opposers.  If  the  common  sentiment  of  the  people 
were  in  favor  of  every  man's  liberty  to  steal  what- 
ever he  could  lay. his  hands  on,  it  would  be  found 
very  difficult  to  convict  a  rogue,  no  matter  how 
clearly  expressed  the  law  against  stealing.  A  single 
thief  in  the  jury-box  could  defeat  the  ends  of  justice. 
A  hundred  loop-holes  for  escape  can  always  be 
found  in  the  provisions  of  a  law  with  which  the 
majority  of  the  people  are  not  in  sympathy.  In- 
deed, it  often  happens  that  such  loop-holes  are  pro- 
vided by  the  law-makers  themselves;  and  this  is 
especially  true  in  too  many  of  the  laws  made  for 
the  suppression  of  the  liquor  trade. 

Is  this  an  argument  against  the  enactment  of  laws 
to  protect  the  people  from  great  wrongs — especially 
the  weaker  and  more  helpless  ones?  To  the  half- 
hearted, the  indifferent  and  the  pusillanimous — yes  I 
But  with  brave,  true  men,  who  have  at  heart 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

st  interests  of  humanity,  this  can  only  inten- 
sify opposition  to  wrong,  and  give  strength  for  new 
efforts  to  destroy  its  power.  These  have  an  undying 
faith  in  the  ultimate  victory  of  good  over  evil,  and 
mean,  so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  that  the  battle 
shall  continue  until  that  victory  is  won. 

Judge  Pitman  has  eloquently  expressed  this  sen- 
timent in  the  closing  pages  of  his  recent  work,  to 
which  we  have  more  than  once  referred.  Speaking 
of  those  who  distrust  the  practicability  of  securing 
s.ueh  legislation  as  will  effectually  destroy  the  liquor 
trade,  he  says:  "They  are  appalled  at  the  power  of 
the  trailic.  They  see  that  it  has  uncounted  wealth 
•iimand  ;  that  it  is  organized  and  unscrupu- 
lous ;  that  it  has  the  support  of  fierce  appetite  be- 
hind it  and  the  alliance  of  every  evil  lust;  that  it 
is  able  to  bribe  or  intimidate  the  great  political 
parties.  All  this  is  true ;  but  still  it  is  not  to  be  the 
final  victor.  It  has  all  the  elemental  moral  f< 
of  the  human  race  against  it,  and  though  their 
working  be  slow,  and  their  rate  of  progress  depen- 
dent on  human  energy  and  fidelity,  the  ultimate 
result  is  as  certain  as  the  action  of  the  law  of  gravity 
in  the  material  universe.  Wealth  may  be  against 
us;  rank  may  affect  to  despise  us;  but  the  light 
whose  dawn  makes  a  new  morning  in  the  world, 
rarely  shines  from  palace  or  crown,  but  from  the 
manger  and  the  cross.  Before  the  aroused  conscien-'es 
of  the  people,  wielding  the  indomitable  will  <>far-- 
t  he  destroyers  of  soul  and  body  shall  go  down  forever/' 


STRONG  DRINK; 
THE  VALUE  OF  PROHIBITORY  LAWS  WHEN  ENFORCED. 

It  remains  now  to  show  how  far  prohibitory  laws, 
when  enforced,  have  secured  the  end  for  which  they 
were  created.  On  this  point,  the  evidence  is  clear 
and  satisfactory.  In  Vermont,  a  prohibitory  law 
has  existed  for  over  twenty-three  years.  In  some 
parts  of  the  State  it  is  rigidly  enforced ;  in  others 
with  less  severity.  Judge  Peck,  of  the  Supreme 
Court  says :  "  The  law  has  had  an  effect  upon  our 
customs,  and  has  done  away  with  that  of  treating 
and  promiscuous  drinking.  *  *  *  In  attending 
court  for  ten  years,  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen 
a  drunken  man"  In  St.  Johnsbury,  where  there 
is  a  population  of  five  thousand,  the  law  has  been 
strictly  enforced ;  and  the  testimony  in  regard  to 
the  town  is  this :  "  There  is  no  bar,  no  dram-shop, 
no  poor,  and  no  policeman  walks  the  streets.  It  is 
the  workingman's  paradise." 

Connecticut  enacted  a  prohibitory  law  in  1854. 
In  1855,  Governor  Button  said,  in  his  annual  mes- 
sage to  the  General  Assembly :  "  There  is  scarcely 
an  open  grog-shop  in  the  State,  the  jails  are  fast 
becoming  tenantless,  and  a  delightful  air  of  security 
is  everywhere  enjoyed." 

In  Meriden,  the  chaplain  of  the  reform  school 
testified  that  "crime  had  diminished  seventy -five 
per  cent."  In  New  London,  the  jail  was  tenantless. 
In  Norwich,  the  jails  and  almshouses  were  reported 
"  as  almost  empty."  But  in  1873,  the  liquor  influ- 
ence was  strong  enough  in  the  legislature  to  substi- 


THE  CURSE  AND  THE  Cl'M. 

tute  license  for  prohibition.  The  consequence  was 
an  immediate  increase  of  drunkenness  and  crime. 
Two  years  afterwards,  the  Secretary  of  State  de- 
clared that  "there  was  a  greater  increase  of  crime 
in  one  year  under  license  than  in  seven  years  under 
prohibition." 

Vine-land,  Now  Jersey,  has  a  population  of  ten 
tl.oti.-aii'l.  Absolute  prohibition  is  the  law  of  that 
fi  immunity.  One  constable,  who  is  also  overseer  of 
the  poor,  is  sufficient  to  maintain  public  order.  In 
-,  his  annual  report  says:  "  We  have  practically 
no  debt.  *  *  *  The  police  expenses  of  Vine- 
land  amount  to  seventy-five  dollars  a  year,  the  sum 
paid  to  me,  and  our  poor  expenses  are  a  mere  trille." 

In  Potter  County,  Pennsylvania,  there  has  been 
a  prohibitory  law  for  many  years.  Hon.  John  S. 
Mann  says :  "  Its  effect,  as  regards  crime,  is  marked 
and  runs]  icnous.  Our  jail  is  without  inmates,  ex- 
c>/>(  tlic  sheriff,  for  more  than  half  the  time." 

Other  instances  of  local  prohibition  in  this  country 
could  be  given,  but  these  are  sufficient. 

Bessbrook,  a  town  in  Ireland  of  four  thousand 
inhabitants,  has  no  liquor-shop,  and  whisky  and 
strong  drink  are  strictly  prohibited.  There  is  no 
poor-house,  pawn-shop  or  police-station.  The  town 
i-  entirely  free  from  strife,  discord  or  disturbance. 

In  the  county  of  Tyrone,  Ireland,  nodrinking  house 

is  allowed.     In  1870,  Right  Hon.  Claude  1  lamilton 

said  :  <%At  j -resent  there  is  not  a  single  policeman  in 

distrii-t.     Tin-   ]>< K>r-rates   are  half  what  they 


GG8  STRONG  DRINK; 

were  before,  and  the  magistrates  testify  to  the  great 
absence  of  crime." 

In  many  parts  of  England  and  Scotland  there  is 
local  prohibition,  and  the  uniform  testimony  as  to 
the  absence  of  pauperism  and  crime  is  as  unequivo- 
cal as  that  given  above. 

THE  MAINE  LAW— ITS  COMPLETE  VINDICATION. 

But  it  is  to  the  State  of  Maine,  where  a  prohibi- 
tory law  has  existed  for  over  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
and  where  prohibition  has  been  put  to  the  severest 
tests,  that  we  must  look  for  the  more  decisive  proofs 
of  success  or  failure. 

On  the  evidence  which  Maine  furnishes,  the  ad- 
vocates of  legal  suppression  are  content  to  rest  their 
case.  In  order  to  get  a  brief,  but  thoroughly  ac- 
curate and  reliable  history  of  the  Maine  law,  we 
addressed  a  letter  to  Hon.  Neal  Dow,  of  Portland, 
Maine,  asking  him  to  furnish  us,  for  this  volume, 
with  the  facts  and  evidence  by  which  our  readers 
could  for  themselves  judge  whether  the  law  were  a 
dead  letter,  as  some  asserted,  or  effective  and  salutory. 
In  reply,  Mr.  Dow  has  kindly  furnished  us  with  the 
following  deeply  interesting  and  important  commu- 
nication : 

TESTIMONY  OF  HON.  NEAL  DOW. 

PORTLAND,  October  12th,  1877. 
T.  S.  ARTHUR,  ESQ.  : 

Dear  Sir — I  will  gladly  furnish  you  with  a  brief  history  of 
the  Maine  Law,  aud  a  statement  of  its  operation  and  effects  in 


THE  CURSE  AND  TUB  CLTJ:. 

Main«\  in  the  hope  that  the  wide  circulation  of  the  work  you 
have  in  preparation  may  serve  to  correct  the  mistaken  notion 
that  prevail*',  to  the  c fleet  that  the  law  has  failed  of  any  useful 
result,  and  that  the  liquor  traffic  is  carried  on  as  extensively 
in  Maine  as  ever  it  had  been,  with  all  its  baleful  effects  upon 
loral  and  material  interests  of  the  State. 

In  the  old  time  the  people  of  Maine  were  as  much  addicted 
to  the  use  of  strong  drinks  as  those  of  any  other  part  of  the 
country ;  and  the  effects  of  this  shocking  habit  were  seen  * 

in  shabby  buildings,  neglected  farms  and  in  wide-spread 
poverty.  There  wore,  in  this  State,  magnificent  forests  of  the 
best  pine  timber  in  the  world.  The  manufacture  of  this  tim- 
ber into  "lumber"  of  various  descriptions,  and  the  sale  of  it, 
were  the  leading  industries  of  Maine.  The  products  of  our 
vast  forests  were  sent  chiefly  to  the  West  India  Islands,  and 
the  returns  were  mostly  in  rum  and  in  molasses,  to  be  converted 
into  rum  by  our  own  distilleries,  of  which  there  were  many 
among  us,  in  various  parts  of  the  State — seven  of  them  in  this 
city,  running  night  and  day.  This  rum,  almost  the  whole  of 
it,  whether  imjMirted  or  home-made,  was  consumed  among  our 
own  people.  It  was  sent  in  the  way  of  trade  and  in  exchange 
lumber"  into  every  part  of  our  territory ;  not  a  town  or 
village,  or  rural  district  escaped,  however  remote  or  thinly 
populated  it  might  be. 

The  result  of  this  was,  that  almost  the  entire  value  of  all  this 
vast  indu.-  i»\\i\  the  throats  of  our  people  in  tin-  shape 

of  ruin,  either  imported  or  home-made.  I  have  heard  men  say 
v.i..  had  been  extensively  engaged  in  this  lumber  trade,  that 
Maine  is  not  a  dollar  the  richer,  and  never  was,  on  account  of 
thi>  immense  business;  but  that  ih.-  people  were  poorer  in  con- 
sequence of  it,  and  ;  ralile  than  they  \\oiilil  have  been 
it'  the  pine  forest.-  had  been  swept  away  by  a  great  cuiiilagra- 

The  effects  of  this  course  of  trade  were  seen  everywhere 
throu^hi.ut  the  State.  In  scarcely  any  part  of  it  was  there 
any  evidence  of  business  prosperity  or  thrift,  but,  generally, 


670  STRONG  DRINK; 

there  was  abundant  evidence  of  poverty,  untidiness  and  decay. 
In  the  lumbering  towns  and  villages,  where  the  innumerable 
saw-mills  were,  the  greatest  bustle  and  activity  prevailed.  The 
air  resounded  with  the  loud  noises  coming  from  these  mills. 
Wight  and  day  they  were  "  run,"  never  ceasing  until  the  "  logs" 
were  "worked  up."  Relays  of  hands  were  employed  at  all  these 
lumbering  centres,  so  that  the  saw-mills  never  stopped  even  for 
an  hour  during  "  the  season,"  except  for  some  occasional  re- 
pairs. All  these  men  drank  rum  ;  a  quart  a  day  per  man  was 
a  moderate  quantity ;  but  a  great  many  of  them  required  two 
quarts  a  day.  The  result  of  this  was,  that  the  entire  wages  of 
the  men  were  consumed  in  drink,  except  a  meagre  .share  that 
went  to  the  miserable  wives  and  children  at  home. 

Everywhere  throughout  the  State  the  results  of  this  way  of 
life  was  to  be  seen — in  the  general  poverty  of  the  people,  and 
in  the  shabbiness  of  all  their  surroundings.  But  some  persons 
conceived  the  idea  that  all  this  evil  was  not  necessary  and  in- 
evitable ;  that  it  came  from  the  liquor  traffic,  which  might  be 
prohibited  and  suppressed,  as  lottery-tickets,  gambling-houses 
and  impure  books  and  pictures  had  already  been.  And  they 
devoted  themselves  constantly  and  industriously  to  the  work 
of  correcting  the  public  opinion  of  the  people  as  to  the  liquor 
traffic  by  demonstrating  to  them  that  this  trade  was  in  dea'Uy 
hostility  to  every  interest  of  the  State,  while  no  good  came 
from  it,  nor  could  come  from  it,  to  State  or  people. 

This  educational  work  was  carried  on  persistently  for  years ; 
meetings  were  held  by  these  persons  in  every  little  country- 
church  and  town-house,  and  in  every  little  wayside  school- 
house,  where  the  farmers  and  their  wives  and  children  assem- 
bled at  the  call  of  these  missionaries,  to  listen  to  their  burning 
denunciation  of  the  liquor  traffic,  which  lived  only  by  spread- 
ing poverty,  pauperism,  suffering,  insanity,  crime  and  prema- 
ture death  broadcast  over  the  State.  The  result  of  this  teach- 
ing was,  that  the  public  opinion  of  the  State  became  thoroughly 
changed  ?.«  to  the  character  of  tho  liquor  traffic  and  its  relation 
to  the  public  prosperity  and  welfare. 


THE  CURSE  AND  Till'  <  7  /:/  .  (J71. 

When  we  thought  the  time  had  come  for  it,  we  demanded  of 

the  Legislature  that  the  law  of  "  license,"  then  upon  the  statute 

,  which  represented  the  public  opinion  of  the  old  time, 

should  be  changed  for  a  law  of  prohibition,  representing  the 

improved  public  opinion  of  the  present  time;    and,  after  two 

cessful  attempts  to  procure  such  a  law,  we  obtained  what 

we  desired,  an  act  of  absolute  prohibition  to  the  manufacture 

and  sale  of  strong  drink — a  measure  for  which  we  had  labored 

long  and  industriously  for  many  years. 

At  the  time  of  the  enactment  of  this  statute,  now  known  as 
the  MAINE  LAW  the  world  over,  the  liquor  traffic  was  carried 
on  extensively  in  the  State,  wholesale  and  retail,  precisely  as 
it  is  now  in  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania  and  iu 
every  other  State  where  that  trade  is  licensed  and  protected  by 
the  law.  The  Maine  Law  went  into  operation  immediately 
upon  its  approval  by  the  Governor,  and  by  its  provisions-, 
liquors  kept  for  sale  everywhere,  all  over  the  State,  were  liable 
to  be  seized,  t<>rl'<  -ited  and  destroyed,  and  the  owners  to  be  pun- 
i-hcil  by  fine  and  imprisonment.  The  municipal  authorities 
of  the  cities  and  towns  allowed  the  dealers  a  reasonable  time  to 
M-IH!  away  their  stocks  of  liquors  to  other  States  and  countries, 
[heir  sale  was  permitted  by  the  law. 

The  liquor-traders  availed  themselves  of  this  forbearance  of 
the  authorities,  and  did  generally  send  their  stock  of  liquors 
out  of  the  State.  Tin-  open  sale  of  liquors  came  instantly  to 
an  end  throughout  all  our  territory,  ami  where  it  continued,  it 
was  done  secretly,  as  other  things  are  done  iu  violation  of  law. 
Tli.  manufacture  of  intoxicating  liquors  was  entirely  stopped, 
so  that  in  all  the  State  there  was  absolutely  none  produced, 
except  eider,  which  might  he  made  and  used  for  vii; 

The  effect  of  tlti-  j»<.]i,-y  of  prohibition  to  the  liquor  traffic 
was  speedily  visible  in  our  wor!;-hoii«-;,  jails  and  houses  »•: 

08.  The  jail  of  Cumberland  County,  the  most  populous 
of  the  State,  had  been  badly  over-crowded,  but  within  four 
months  of  the  en  at  -tin.  m  oj'ihc  la\\  there  \\crebutfivcprisoncr8 
iu  it,  three  of  whom  \UTC  ]i  juor 


(572  STRONG  DRINK; 

the  law.  The  jails  of  Penobscot;  Kennebec,  Franklin,  Ox- 
ford and  York  were  absolutely  empty.  The  inmates  of  the 
work-houses  were  greatly  reduced  in  number,  and  in  some  of 
the  smaller  towns  pauperism  ceased  entirely. 

But,  during  all  this  time,  in  every  part  of  the  country,  re- 
ports were  industriously  circulated  that  the  law  was  inopera- 
tive for  good,  and  that  liquors  were  sold  in  Maine  as  freely  and 
in  as  large  quantities  as  before  the  law.  These  false  statements 
were  industriously  and  persistently  made  everywhere  by  those 
interested  in  the  liquor  trade,  and  by  those  impelled  by  appe- 
tite or  passion.  It  is  sufficient  for  me  to  say  here  that  the 
Maine  Law,  from  the  first,  has  been  as  faithfully  executed  as 
our  other  criminal  laws  have  been,  though  there  has  been,  at 
certain  times,  and  in  certain  localities,  considerable  complicity 
with  the  violators  of  it,  on  the  part  of  many  officers  of  the  law, 
so  that  the  Legislature  has  at  last  provided  heavy  penalties  for 
the  punishment  of  prosecuting  officers,  justices  of  the  peace  and 
judges  of  municipal  and  police  courts,  in  case  of  failure  in  their 
duty.  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say  that  the  judges  of  our 
higher  courts  have,  from  the  first,  been  true  to  their  duty  hi 
the  administration  of  this  law,  as  of  all  others. 

In  much  the  larger  part  of  Maine,  in  all  the  rural  districts, 
in  the  villages  and  smaller  towns,  the  liquor  traffic  is  absolutely 
unknown ;  no  such  thing  as  a  liquor-shop  exists  there,  either 
open  or  secret.  The  traffic  lingers  secretly  only  in  the  larger 
towns  and  cities,  where  it  leads  a  precarious  and  troubled  life — 
only  among  the  lowest  and  vilest  part  of  our  foreign  popula- 
tion. Nowhere  in  the  State  is  there  any  visible  sign  of  this 
horrible  trade.  The  penalties  of  the  law,  as  they  now  stand, 
are  sufficient  to  extinguish  the  traffic  in  all  the  small  towns, 
and  to  drive  it  into  dens  and  dark  corners  in  the  larger  towns. 
The  people  of  Maine  now  regard  this  trade  as  living,  where  it 
exists  at  all,  only  on  the  misery  and  wretchedness  of  the  com- 
munity. They  speak  of  it  everywhere,  in  the  press,  on  the 
platform,  and  in  legislative  halls,  as  the  gigantic  crime  of 
crimes,  and  we  mean  to  treat  it  as  such  by  the  law. 


TUE  CURSE  AND  TI1E  CURE.  '  $73 

For  some  years  after  the  enactment  of  the  law,  it  entered 
largely  into  the  politics  of  the  State.  Candidates  were  nomi- 
nated by  one  party  or  the  other  with  reference  to  their  pro- 
clivities for  rum  or  their  hostility  to  it,  and  the  people  were 
determined  in  their  votes,  one  way  or  the  other,  by  this  consid- 
eration. 

Now,  the  policy  of  prohibition,  with  penalties  stringent 
enough  to  be  effective,  has  become  as  firmly  settled  in  this 
State  as  that  of  universal  education  or  the  vote  by  ballot.  The 
republican  party,  in  its  annual  conventions,  during  all  these 
years,  has  affirmed,  unanimously,  its  "  adhesion  to  prohibition 
ami  the  vigorous  enforcement  of  laws  to  that  end;"  and  the 
Democratic  party,  in  its,  annual  convention  of  this  year,  re- 
jected, by  an  immense  majority,  and  with  enthusiastic  cheers, 
a  resolution,  proposed  from  the  floor,  in  favor  of  "  license." 

The  original  Maine  Law  was  enacted  by  a  vote  in  the  House 
'iiy-six  to  forty,  and  in  the  Senate  by  eighteen  to  ten. 
There  have  been  several  subsequent,  liquor  laws,  all  in  the 
ion  of  greater  stringency;  and  the  Legislature  of  this 
year  enacted  an  additional  law,  with  penalties  much  more 
stringent  than  any  which  had  preceded  it,  without  a  dissenting 
vote.  No  one  can  mistake  the  significance  of  this  fact,  it  was 
nn  unanimous  affirmation  of  adhesion  to  the  policy  of  prohibi- 
tion, after  a  steady  trial  of  it  and  experience  of  its  rcsui 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  And,  since  that  time,  the 
people  have  passed  upon  it  at  the  late  annual  election  by  an 
approval  of  the  policy  and  of  the  men  who  favor  it — by  an 
immense  majority.  If  it  be  conceded  that  the  people  of  Maine 
possess  an  ordinary  share  of  intelligence  and  common  sense, 
this  result  would  be  impossible,  unless  the  effect  of  prohibition 
ha-1  been  beneficial  to  the  State  and  to  them. 

While  we  were  earnestly  at  work  in  bringing  up  the  public 

opinion  of  the  State  to  the  point  of  demanding  the  prohibition 

of  the  li«[uor  traffic,  as  a  more  important  politic  :il  ami  social 

:  >n  than  any  other  or  all  others,  I  was  startled  at  hearing 

leiiKin  of  the  town  of  Raymond  declare  that  in  his  t->\\;i 

L3 


(574  STRONG  DRIXK; 

the  people  consumed  in  strong  drink  its  entire  valuation  in 
every  period  of  eighteen  years,  eight  months  and  twenty-five 
days !  "  Here  are  the  figures,"  he  said ;  "  I  know  the  quantity 
of  liquor  brought  into  the  town  annually.  I  am  so  situated 
that  I  am  able  to  state  this  accurately,  beyond  all  possibility 
of  doubt,  except  that  liquors  may  be  brought  here  by  other 
than  the  ordinary  mode  of  transportation  without  my  knowl- 
edge ;  but  the  quantities  stated  in  this  paper  (which  he  held  in 
his  hand),  and  their  cost  are  within  my  knowledge."  This  was 
part  of  a  speech  to  his  fellow-townsmen,  and  his  statement  was 
admitted  to  be  true.  Now,  there  is  not  a  drop  of  liquor  sold 
in  that  town,  and  there  has  not  been  any  sold  there  for  many 
years.  This  statement  may  strike  us  at  first  blush  to  be  tre- 
mendously exaggerated,  that  the  people  of  any  locality  should 
consume  in  strong  drink  the  entire  value  of  its  real  estate  and 
personal  property  in  every  period  of  less  than  twenty  years. 
But  let  us  examine  it. 

We  learn  from  tha  Bureau  of  Statistics  that  the  annual 
liquor  bill  of  the  United  States  is  seven  hundred  millions  of  dol- 
lars. This  does  not  include  the  enormous  quantity  of  "  crooked 
whisky,"  which  has  been  put  upon  the  market  with  or  without 
the  knowledge,  consent,  assent  or  complicity  of  our  public 
officers,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  The  drink  bill  of  the 
United  Kingdom,  with  a  population  smaller  than  purs,  is  more 
than  this  by  many  millions.  This  valuation — seven  hundred 
millions  of  dollars — is  the  price,  by  the  quantity,  taken  from  the 
figures  as  they  come  into  the  public  office,  while  the  cost  to  the 
consumers  is  vastly  greater.  Now,  this  sum,  with  annual  com- 
pound interest  for  ten  years,  amounts  to  the  enormous  figure 
of  eight  billions  nine  hundred  and  forty-four  millions  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-one  thousands  of  dollars — almost  nine  thousand 
millions  of  dollars !  For  twenty  years  the  amount  is  twenty- 
five  billions  two  hundred  and  forty-five  millions  six  hundred  and 
eighty-one  thousands  of  dollars.  Twenty-five  thousand  two  hun- 
dred and  forty-five  millions  of  dollais  and  more;  actually  as 
much,  within  a  fraction,  as  the  entire  value  of  the  personal  and 


THE  CURSE  AXD  THE  CURE. 

landed  property  of  the  United  States !    My  friend  of  Raymond 
may  well  be  credited  in  the  statement  made  to  his  fellow- 
men. 

Now,  as  the  result  of  the  Maine  Law,  in  Maine,  the  wealth 

ami  prosperity  of  the  people  have  greatly  increased.     This  can 

be  seen  in  every  part  of  the  State,  and  is  obvious  to  the  ino.-t 

1  observer,  who  knew  what  Maine  was  before  the  law  of 

prohibition,  and  knows  what  it  has  been  since  and  down  to  the 

present  time.     Evidences  of  industry,  enterprise  and   thrift 

where,  instead  of  the  general  poverty,  uuthrift  and  shab- 

nessof  the  old  rum-time. 

The  phare  of  Maine,  of  the  National  drink  bill,  would  be 
about  thirteen  millions  of  dollars,  and  but  for«the  Maine  Law, 
we  should  be  consuming  our  full  proportion ;  but  now  I  feel 
myself  fully  warranted  in  saying  that  we  do  not  expend  in  that 
way  one-tenth  of  that  sum.  A  mayor  of  the  city  of  Portland, 
in  a  message  to  the  City  Council,  said :  "  The  quantity  of 
liquor  now  sold  is  not  one-fiftieth  part  as  much  as  it  was  1 
the  enactment  of  the  law."  The  difference,  whatever  it  may 
be,  between  the  sum  we  should  waste  in  strong  drink,  but  for 
the  law,  and  that  which  we  actually  squander  in  that  way,  we 
have  in  our  pockets,  in  our  savings  banks  and  in  our  business, 
so  that  Maine  has  sufl'  ml  lar  less,  financially,  during  this 
.  than  any  other  part  of  the  country. 

I  have  said  the  drink  hill  of  Maine,  but  for  prohibition, 
would  be  about  thirteen  millions  of  dollars  annually,  in  pro- 
jx>rtion  to  that  of  the  whole  country.  Now,  this  sum,  with 
annual  compound  interest  at  six  per  cent.,  in  t.-n  years  will 
amount  to  one  hundred  and  seventy  millions  three  hundred 
and  ninete,  n  thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty-* -iirht  dol- 
ainl  in  t\vmty  years  to  four  hundred  and  sixty-three 
millions  eight  hundred  and  fifty-four  thousand  four  hundred 
and  twenty  dollars — more  than  twice  the  entire  valuation 
of  the  State,  by  the  estimate  made  in  1870,  which  was  two 
hundred  and  twenty-four  millions  eL'ht  hundred  ami  tw.-nty- 
two  thousand  nine  hundred  and  thirteen  dollars.  There 


676  STKONG  DRIXK; 

was  a  reason  then  for  the  fact,  that  in  the  old  rum-time  the 
people  of  Maine  were  poor  and  unthrifty  in  every  way — and 
for  that  other  fact,  that  now  they  are  prosperous  and  flourish- 
ing, with  a  better  business  than  that  of  any  other  State,  pro- 
portionately. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  in  Portland  a  great  conflagra- 
tion destroyed  ten  millions  of  dollars  in  1866,  burned  down 
half  the  town,  and  turned  ten  thousand  people  out  of  doors,  the 
prosperity  of  the  city  has  been  steadily  on  the  increase.  Its 
valuation,  in  1860,  was  twenty-one  millions  eight  hundred  and 
sixty-six  thousand  dollars,  and  in  1870,  twenty-nine  millions 
four  hundred  and  thirty-nine  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven  dollars.  •  In  the  last  year  the  increase  in  valuation,  in 
spite  of  the  hard  times,  was  four  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
dollars,  while  Boston,  with  free  rum,  has  lost  more  than  eight 
millions,  and  New  York  and  Brooklyn  has  experienced  an  im- 
mense depreciation. 

I  think  I  have  said  enough  to  satisfy  every  intelligent,  un- 
prejudiced man  that  the  absolute  prohibition  and  suppression 
of  the  liquor  traffic  has  been  in  the  highest  interest  of  our  State 
and  people.  I  am,  very  truly,  yours, 

NEAL  Dow. 

And  here  we  close  our  discussion  of  the  most 
important  of  all  the  social  questions  that  are  to-day 
before  the  people ;  and  in  doing  so,  declare  it  as  our 
solemn  conviction,  that  until  the  liquor  traffic  is 
abolished,  and  the  evils  with  which  it  curses  the 
people,  removed,  all  efforts  at  moral  reforms  must 
languish,  and  the  church  find  impediments  in  IK.T 
way  which  cannot  be  removed.  The  CURSE  is  upon 
us,  and  there  is  but  one  CURE;  Total  Abstinence,  by 
the  help  of  God,  for  the  individual,  and  Prohibition 
for  the  State. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


ID 
(Ml 


ID 


NOW-RENEWABLE 

ILL-  LLJ-U 
JUL  1  6  ; 


DDE  2  WKS  FROM  DATE  RECEIVED 


,n         ACC*SS  SEVICES  BU0 

Interllbrary  Loans 


-os  Angeles,  CA    90095- 


Form  . 


HV5296, 


